Terra's Tears
by Xeal II
Summary: Years have passed since the exile of the Sky People. Communication with Earth has been lost and all dare to hope that mankind has abandoned any attempt at reconquest. The appearance of a heavily armed warship in orbit changes everything.
1. End Of The Beginning

_Author's Note: This is a concept I've been tossing around for awhile now. **It's not related to my previous Avatar fics**, this is a distinctly separate continuity from them. Consider it a sort of exploration of the darker side of humanity, and another possible future for Pandora, post-movie. In this version, Norm's Avatar remains dead, though Trudy survives. Yes, I know, I abuse tropes sometimes, but it is what it is. Her character is important to the story, so I ask that you roll with it. Please, enjoy, and by all means, send me your thoughts._

_**Terra's Tears**_

_13 years after ISV Venture Star flees Pandora_

**Chapter 1 – End of the Beginning**

There was once a dream that was Earth, that her people knew instinctively. It was a sort of optimism for the future that no amount of death could ever truly erase. It was the child gazing up at the stars in wonder, it was the scientist's obsessive joy at another mystery revealed, it was the very discovery of Pandora, in all its alien majesty. Like all dreams, it was a thing old Terra had to awaken from, to terrible reality.

Emptiness surrounded Trudy Chacon, a lingering reminder that burned in her mind each day of just how far away from her old home she truly was. It had seemed so simple of a decision then, as she lay in the med-lab after that terrible battle, charred and barely alive. Who would ever want to return 'home' to a place that could barely even support its own population anymore? It wasn't that she was any kind of naturist. In all truth, she loved the comforting familiarity of Hell's Gate. Yet there was something to be said, looking out the window each morning to a lush, virgin world instead of another battle-zone, another bloody brush war threatening to take her life and her sanity. Still, she missed Earth sometimes, even the shitholes she had been raised in. Jake was right, humans just simply didn't belong here, no matter how breathtaking Pandora truly was. Still, it was her new home, she would make the best of it.

Her hands reached for the hatchway into Ops, the door groaning in protest. Familiar though it was, Hell's Gate didn't have much life left in it anymore. Corrosion had set in through lack of proper maintenance, and though the plant life didn't seem particularly concerned with overrunning the base too soon, it was obvious that the inexorable process would takeover eventually. Maybe this Eywa Jake always spoke of was responsible for that, giving the humans left behind a chance to adapt. Then again, maybe it was all just a bunch of mumbo-jumbo, she supposed she would never know. Trudy had long ago given up on trying to figure this world out.

"You're up early." It was Norm, standing watch over the holographic console. She smiled weakly at him in reply, letting his hand brush hers for a moment. Perhaps it was rather pointless to have any real relationships on this rock, the tiny human colony was ultimately doomed and everyone knew it. It felt right with him, though. He looked past the physical and emotional scars a lifetime of combat had left on her and that had to be worth something. Certainly, no one else had seen her as anything more than a marine badass or a walking pair of tits. The scientist was refreshing and new, even after more than a decade together.

"Yeah. Couldn't sleep for shit." She answered after a moment, checking out the latest satellite data streams. At first, a few company ships had shown up, launched before word of their little revolt had made it back to Earth. But those vessels had been refueled and sent away before they could cause serious trouble. Some of the Avatar drivers stayed behind, some of the other colonists took advantage of the opportunity to leave, the net difference had been negligible. It had been more than eight years since an ISV had last come calling, though, and at least five since a transmission of any kind had come through from Earth. It hadn't been looking good even then, RDA's collapse had started a serious war back on old Terra, with the mars and lunar colonies joining in some kind of interplanetary cold war. Maybe such a thing was inevitable, but part of Trudy still wanted to hold on to hope for her former home. But she had never been very good at being an optimist. _Earth was fucked a long time ago,_ she thought.

"Anything happening?" She added, trying to break the silence.

"Does it ever?" Norm teased, kissing her gently in reply. Someone had to stay up here and monitor the old satellites in orbit and keep an eye on the comm relays, no matter how boring. Humanity would be back eventually, and it would do some good to be prepared for their arrival. As if answering the thoughts rolling around in her sleep-deprived mind, a warning light began to beep on the center console.

"Looks like I spoke too soon." Norm rolled his eyes as they both checked the satellite monitor. There was definitely something out there, a large ship of unusual design registering for a brief moment before the satellite was once again out of range. _Shit, so much for boredom, _Trudy thought.

I guess we'll have to tell Jake about this." Norm suggested. That was usually his answer for any kind of serious trouble, but it had a certain validity to it. Jake had taken the mantle of leadership among the Omaticaya only with great reservation. Everyone knew he just wanted to be left alone with his mate and his offspring, but that was the very reason people kept expecting it out of him. And if anyone was going to make something like an important decision, it was well that he was a marine. It always helped to have a little realism backing your decisions, after all. Whatever else the Corps may have instilled in its men and women, that value definitely stuck.

"Yeah. Wonderful fucking morning. More Company pukes come to play." Trudy complained, but at least she would have an excuse to fly today, and that was worth something. Sometimes she wondered what it might be like, to soar through the clouds like the Na'vi did on their banshees, to really _feel_ the wind on your face like that. But her dependable Samson was certainly nothing to complain about.

'Frankenstein,' as she had named the craft, was exactly what the designation might imply. Many airframes had been raided for parts to keep her chopper going, but it was loving relationship, of sorts. Every rattle and vibration was distinctly hers, there was probably even a decent amount of her blood and sweat buried in the metal of this bird. Norm might have won her heart somewhere along the way, but such a thing could never replace the love she felt for the skies. For his part, the scientist kissed her cheek and more or less got the hell out of her way. That was another reason they got along so well.

* * *

Rain fell from the thundering clouds, cleansing the forest, renewing the balance of life. Eywa was everywhere in Neytiri's mind, renewing her spirit just as the water gave life to the plants and animals around her. Something within her always enjoyed such moments, even when the rest of the clan huddled underneath the branches of Hometree, safe from the downpour. Perhaps it was as Mo'at teased often, she was just a little insane, the habits of her mate rubbing off on her.

There was a certain truth to that, _tsa'haylu _ensured that many thoughts and habits were shared, even when they were not fully connected. There was even a certain amount of sharing within memories, such that in her dreams, she sometimes saw the outlines of Earth, the great metal Sky World so far away. Perhaps that was why she enjoyed the forest so much more, even, than typical Omaticaya. Part of her knew, through her lifemate, exactly what it was like to live without it.

"Thought I would find you out here." Jake was behind her, silently watching. Over the years his ability to meld with the forest had improved greatly, such that on rare occasions, he was actually able to surprise her. Yet somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew him as her _skxawng_. Much of his mind was still inwardly different, somehow, but that didn't scare her. Part of Neytiri had always enjoyed the unknown, the mystery of a different way of life. In that, she and Jake were very much alike. Ignoring the thoughts swirling around in her mind, she reached out for his face, bringing their lips together gently.

The moment was broken by the foreign sounds of a metal bird in the distance. Over the years, Neytiri had grown more used to the contraption Trudy flew around, but she was never entirely at peace with it. Of course she held a great deal of respect for the Sky Warrior who flew the metal beast with such skill, but the machine itself was anathema to her. Perhaps it was Jake's memories of Earth with provoked this in her, or maybe it was simply the inability to forget that final, deadly battle over the Tree of Souls.

"Something is going on, she's never here this early." Jake scratched his chin briefly in a very _human _gesture of deep thought. Somehow, Neytiri found his odd mannerisms attractive in some mysterious way, and she knew that he felt the same about her.

"Maybe the Sky People return." Neytiri pointed out the obvious. It had been many years, but all knew humanity would be back, though hopefully in peace. Her dreams of the Sky World came back to her then, the suffering of an entire planet at war with itself. They were visions of a people annihilating each other with weapons of such unimaginable power, Neytiri had difficulty even wrapping her mind around it. Compared to what they had fought on her world before, the humans were incomparably mighty in the arts of war.

"Knock on wood." Jake answered, his expression turning to one of worry.

Many years had passed since Jake had wandered these halls. More often, the scientists and the avatars would just go visit him rather than the reverse. Some had even joined the tribe over the years, bonding with their own artificial bodies out of regard for simplicity. Others maintained a more cautious outlook on such things, keeping Hell's Gate up and running, continuing research most knew they would never get the opportunity to send home.

"Ouch." Jake bumped his head rather hard against the hatch doorway. He hadn't even used a door in ages, and for a moment it was almost foreign to him. Part of him would always remain human, in the back of his mind, but more often he found himself thinking more like one of the Na'vi, more like his lifemate. At first her mind had seemed so different, so natural and untamed, but either she had mellowed with age, or he had simply become more wild. Perhaps it was a combination of both.

Trudy was already at her station, frowning at the data streaming down from the satellite network RDA had installed decades ago. Something about that always made Jake nervous. There was an old saying among Earth military strategists. _"He who controls the orbitals, controls the world." _It was certainly a valid point. Anytime humanity really felt compelled enough to do it, they could show up with an unbeatable force, station it in orbit, and do whatever they felt like. Political considerations had prevented such a space-borne military presence before, but on Earth, the political winds were notoriously unreliable things.

"Definitely a starship. Nothing like I've seen before." Trudy reported, studying the display.

"Basic design is similar to RDA ships. Engines out front, with tow-cable spar, some kind of central structure, and a rear engine mount. It looks like they went with two engines instead of a high-energy laser mirror on the rear." Norm studied the data. Starship design wasn't exactly a specialty of his, but physics was a thing any mathematically inclined scientist could pick up with a decent amount of effort. The design made sense from that perspective, at least.

"Fuckers came a long way just to head home." Trudy cursed.

"That center section has detached from the engines and the cable structure, looks like a parasite ship." Norm reported. That was certainly unique, ISVs had been notoriously fragile vessels. None had ever had any kind of parasite ship, save for the drop shuttles. Whatever this thing was, it was absolutely massive by comparison.

"We should probably talk to them." Jake pointed out, the English words beginning to flow naturally again. Once, he had compared language to field stripping a weapon, but that became _habit_ eventually. Trying to switch between languages was certainly a lot more difficult, especially since his mate _thought_ in Na'vi. That trait had rubbed off on him somewhat through the bond, and his mind was now a jumbled mess of English and Na'vi words that actually took some effort to work out into understandable speech. Before he could assemble some kind of a greeting, the people up there beat him to it.

"..._Montana_ calling Extrasolar Colony Zero-One. Repeat, this is the battleship _Montana_ calling anyone on Pandora. Anyone read down there?" It took Jake a moment to process that new information. A certain fear crept its way up his spine, not for himself, but for all Na'vi, for his mate, for his home. The ex-marine had always known this day would come, despite trying so hard to deny it.

"_Montana._ What are your intentions?" Trudy's expression was one of barely restrained anger.

"We're not hostile." Came the simple, but entirely unbelievable reply.

"Then why bring a battleship?" Jake asked promptly. Certainly that was strange enough. When he had left Earth, weapons were more or less banned in space. No one had even considered anything like a space battleship, they were the subjects of B-rate holo-band flicks and sci-fi novels. The sheer idiocy of space combat had been proven by disastrous wars long before he had been born. In orbit, a large enough rock could become a weapon of mass destruction if wielded properly.

"It's all we had left." A strangely sorrowful voice replied over the radio. "Earth... is gone."


	2. Blue Man's Burden

**Chapter 2 – Blue Man's Burden**

Silence descended over Ops, an invisible blanket of mutual dread, a moment that seemed to stretch into forever. No man was ever meant to process the scale of such a statement, to truly grasp the reality of that much destruction. For centuries, mankind had always stayed its own destructive hand before the end, sometimes at the very last moment possible. Extinction had been averted by the narrowest of margins from time-to-time, leading many people to believe humanity simply wasn't capable of making that last narrow leap into permanent oblivion.

Doubt lingered in Jake's mind, the turmoil of guilt, distrust and sorrow coming upon him all at once, like an unstoppable tidal wave. He could barely feel Neytiri's comforting touch or hear the whispering thoughts of her mind. Earth had been a wrecked world since long before he had been born, and yet the planet had remained a _functioning _wreck, soldiering on through all of the wars, the rampant overpopulation and the terrible mismanagement. Earth simply _was_ and if one's own birth-world was not a measure of consistency in the universe, then what was?

"...Pandora, do you read? Did you get our last..."

"Yeah. We heard you." Jake croaked. "Do we believe you? That's a better question."

"There's no reason to lie. But... we will transmit our data." The voice was filled with a lingering sorrow, a weariness that came through clearly even over the static-filled transmission. Whoever was on the other end was either a very good actor, or was in deadly earnest. Trudy nodded as the satellite uplink connected, transmitting logs, videos and other data to Ops' computers. None were prepared for the images that appeared on the holo-console, or the data which accompanied them.

"Norm?" Jake asked simply, the unspoken question lingering in the air like a terrible stench.

"Looks legitimate at first glance." The scientist answered grimly. "I can't believe anyone would do that."

"I can." Trudy added truthfully, despite the shock etched on her features. Earth had always possessed a certain number of crazies who would be perfectly happy to lay waste to the entire planet in the pursuit of some apocalyptic goal. She had fought many such enemies before reaching Pandora. Even here, light-years from Earth, she had found Quaritch and his band of merry assholes. If there was any universal truth to mankind, it was that there were always some to be found who would rather kill everyone then admit error.

"What has happened?" Neytiri asked in English, confused, feeling the powerful tension in her lifemate yet unable to make sense of the Sky People machines or just what these newcomers were saying. Jake seemed to wrestle with this for a moment, conflicted about the subject, guilt flooding his awareness.

"Put it on the holo-display." Jake decided finally.

"Jake, I'm not sure we should..." Norm hesitated.

"Just fucking do it!" The ex-marine's angry, hurt tone demanded immediate obedience. Shock crossed Neytiri's features, she had not heard him speak in such a manner since that terrible day when Hometree had fallen. It was that same desperate tone, of guilt mixed with shame, of love combined with abject horror. Somehow, she knew her eyes would gaze upon a thing she would never be able to excise from her memory.

Blue light shifted into existence above the holographic projector, the familiar outline of the Sky World hovering before her. Neytiri recognized, through memories that were not her own, the outline of the continents, the shimmering cerulean oceans, the cloud-filled skies. It was as if she stared into the eye of the great orb which hovered perpetually in the Pandoran skies. The Na'vi knew the place as another world, a place untouched by Eywa, a wilderness far away. Jake had told her that his birthplace was so far away, it wasn't even visible as a speck in the heavens. Such a thing was difficult to believe without seeing, and yet here was the representation of the world, floating before her.

Something was wrong, the floating imaging zooming in impossibly far, showing some kind of great battle occurring in the void, Sky People weapons and machines destroying each other with impunity. She could not comprehend how many were inside those machines, but it must have been many, for with each flare of destruction, Trudy winced visibly. Through the furious battle, a gigantic rock broke through all. If the machines were mighty and massive, this rock was far larger, pushed by some machine she had never seen before. The comparably tiny machines stopped fighting and joined forces, turning their combined attentions to the offending rock, pelting it with weapons fire. Yet it was too late. The rock soldiered on, undisturbed, into Earth, blue oceans vanishing in waves of red-hot energy, continents shattering, the world slowly covering itself in dark ash that blanketed the entire surface.

Even though she understood so little of what she saw, Neytiri knew what the impact meant to the people who lived on the Sky World. Eywa respected all life, even that of the humans who had turned away from their destructive ways. What the humans had done to each other defied everything she believed in, everything her people understood about life. It was as if they had taken the will of Eywa and turned it around entirely, declaring war against all living things. Tears flowed down her cheeks, even for Sky People she had never met, for no matter what they may have done to her and her home, they had never deserved this.

"How could... they do this to themselves?" Neytiri asked.

"Someone purposely shot an asteroid at Earth? Why? Why would anyone do that?" Norm demanded almost simultaneously, nearly screaming into the radio.

"It's a long story full of all kinds of stupidity. That's not why we're here, though." The voice at the other end paused for a moment, as if summoning a great amount of courage. "We've come to ask you... for a place to live. There's no where else for us to go."

Trudy was livid, her face turning nearly scarlet with unbridled rage. "So you mean to tell us, you people just up and blew up Earth and now you want to come be our next-door-fucking-neighbors?"

"Pandora's the only habitable world we know of, now." The voice replied. "It's not like we have a choice. You think it's easy, to come out here and beg? You have any idea what it's like to witness that with your _own eyes_?"

Guilty thoughts roiled around in Jake's mind, wondering just how much of this destruction was his fault. Earth's economy had been a disaster long before he had left for Pandora. Just how badly did RDA's downfall hurt his former home? Would everything have still played out this way if he had never made that fateful decision, as he had watched his brother's corpse roll into the incinerator? Was it selfish to obsess over his own guilt at a time like this? He was _Olo'eytkan_, there were responsibilities now, he couldn't sit here and nurse his own emotional wounds while a battleship full of potential crazies was floating just overhead.

That fact was, perhaps, even more disturbing than the sight of Earth's destruction. For whatever else had happened, that warship probably had the potential to level Pandora if whoever was up there decided to go completely ape-shit. Yet knowing what happened to Earth, the Na'vi would probably banish him if he simply allowed them to land and settle here uncontested. They certainly had every right to deny entry to a people who had blown up their own home. Beyond it all, part of him still felt a connection with humanity, and he couldn't simply abandon them to complete extinction. Everything weighed heavily upon him, and he knew he couldn't simply decide the fate of this entire world himself. The other clans would have to be consulted, the thing would have to be worked out. No, it _had _to be worked out. It was as the leader up there said, there was no longer any choice in the matter.

"One shuttle. No weapons." Jake cautioned. "We will talk first. Humanity isn't exactly adored down here. You'll have to convince the Na'vi if you want to settle."

"Agreed." Came the simple reply over the radio. "We will send a shuttle down in twelve hours. We're prepping it now."

"What now?" Norm asked pointedly.

"Now... I have no idea." Jake answered, staring at his lifemate expectantly. Leading a clan was a thing you did more by example than by fiat, and he had been grudgingly accepting of that role. In truth, Neytiri did most of the legwork and kept things running smoothly. In war, he could lead, it was a trait expected of any marine, but in peace it was his mate's natural grace and sharp mind that proved far more useful. As much as he disliked the idea of falling back on someone else to make the decision, it was a thing he knew she would have to guide him through.

"We must go. Talk to the others and bring them here. You are Toruk Makto, they will listen. They will come." Neytiri stated simply in Na'vi. "I do not know how it will go. Many have been lost to the Sky People. They will not be easily swayed."

"What would you do? What do you think is the will of Eywa?" Jake asked solemnly. That, at least, was part of Neytiri's role as Tsahik. Where the entire fate of Pandora was on the line, the world-spanning consciousness would have to be consulted.

"All life is sacred. Eywa would not simply allow the Sky People to die for no purpose." Yet her expression was confused, and it unnerved Jake. She continued. "They will have to change much if they are to live in harmony with the People."

"Yeah," Jake began switching back to English and facing the others. "There's a lot of work to do. We're off to bring the clan leaders here. I'm... not sure what you can do."

"Fucking dumbassess. How in the hell could we be so stupid?" Trudy shook her head, trying to blink back a tear unsuccessfully. "I had family there you know. Hadn't spoken since I was little, but still, they were there... All fucking dead. Twenty-fucking-billion people." Norm nodded silently at Jake, passing along that silent cue to leave. Trudy had a heart bigger than a Samson, yet it was a vulnerability for her, a form of nakedness to have it exposed into the open like this. At this point, only Norm could really be there for her.

Careful to avoid bumping his head again, Jake ducked out of the hatchway, quickly making his way outside with Neytiri in tow. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could feel his _ikran,_ flying freely above the base, searching for prey down below. Before he could summon the beast to fly him off to the other clans, his mate reached for him unexpectedly, binding their queues together without warning. Never before had she done this without asking, such a thing was almost unthinkable among the Na'vi, but then so was watching an entire planet full of people just die.

_I am with you Jake. _She thought, the voice echoing in their shared awareness. Neytiri felt his pain, his doubts and the lingering guilt that he was somehow responsible for this destruction. _You did not do this, it is not right to blame yourself._

_Would it have still happened if I had never come, _came Jake's doubtful reply. His mate almost fell to tears at that thought, at the realization of what her life would have been like if he had never come at all, if they had never shared this life together. Connected as they were, she couldn't even imagine a life without her Jake anymore. It was like trying to imagine life without water. It simply could not be.

Even if it had never happened, Hometree would still have fallen, eventually. Many of the People would have been killed, and eventually her home would have become another Earth, another desolate battleground. Both worlds would have died. Eywa had known this for truth and that was good enough for her.

_I see you. _Jake calmed her roiling thoughts, pushing aside his doubts and his fears, as he had always been trained to do. His love for her passed through their shared awareness in waves. Their lips pressed together, not from desire but from a need to be close, a need to feel another body and another soul.

Earth was not his home anymore, but it had been, once. His human side felt the pain of loss, the anger at the insanity of it all. From the side of him firmly entrenched in the ways of the Na'vi, he felt the absolute revulsion at the thought of so much death, such blatant disregard for the sanctity of life. The thing could not be undone, all that remained was to prevent it from happening here, to preserve what was left, to keep the good in humanity and dispense with the bad.

_I see you. _Neytiri tried to force a smile, but Jake felt the emptiness of it, reaching for her instead, holding her tightly in warm embrace. They lingered there for a moment, alone over the cracked and worn pavement of the base, with nothing but each other for comfort.


	3. Hell's Sweat

**Chapter 3 – Hell's Sweat**

Soaring into the night sky, he felt peace descend over his troubled mind, a welcome relief which brought clarity to his thoughts once more. Flying was always like this for him, giving him escape from the responsibility and the worry. Jake had always been meant to live like this, bound by nothing and no one, free to live and to simply be. Such a thing had brought him immeasurable satisfaction with life, a sense of completion he suspected no human had ever known.

That thought brought the sorrow again, for it was a thing humans _couldn't_ learn now. It was too late for them, the sheer madness of this extinction-level event depriving them of the opportunity to _see._ Jake was living proof that such a thing was possible and a part of him almost wished humanity would have returned, in peace, to learn as he had. Perhaps they could have taken this experience with them and awoken some sort of sanity on old Terra.

His _ikran_ screeched into the heavens, wings flapping with powerful strength, driving him onward towards the floating globe of the gas giant. Jake could feel the bond, the wild nature within, the uncontrolled, untamed life pulsing through the beast with every heartbeat. To an outsider, the relationship between Na'vi and beast seemed a cruel one, like a sort of mind-control. Yet it was nothing of the sort, it was closer to a _merger_, a unity of body and spirit in which both felt the need of the other. As if they were his wings, he could feel the _ikran_ beginning to tire, he knew the hunger in its belly.

Neytiri gestured knowingly towards the forest canopy as they glided together, altitude falling away as the air rushed by his face. Soon, his mount's powerful claws gripped a massive tree branch, and they settled down with mutual exhaustion. Many clan leaders had been called this night, all recognizing _Toruk Makto, _the man who had once ridden Last Shadow. While he had let the wild creature return, Jake knew he could be called upon again, in time of need. Like _ikran,_ the bond was a life-long one, and part of him still felt that lingering connection deep within his mind. The clan leaders had known this too, and without hesitation on the matter, they had agree to come. By now Hell's Gate would be brimming with them.

"We have summoned many, my Jake. But we cannot summon all." Neytiri pointed out wisely. Na'vi lived all over the world, and even on _ikran,_ one could not simply fly over the world on a whim.

"We have enough, I think. It is impossible to bring all, but if there are at least some, then it will be known that this wasn't some decision a former dreamwalker forced upon them." Jake answered, stepping off of his mount, letting his legs dangle over the branch. Far below the familiar sounds of the forest echoed everywhere, of predators on the hunt, prey trying desperately to escape. There was light, gorgeous radiance shimmering from all around. Pandora was alive and full of an energy he had never seen on Earth, and now never would even be able to imagine.

"You are a dreamwalker no longer. None would say that you are not one of the People, not now." Neytiri soothed.

"Maybe. It's still the right thing to do." Jake answered.

"These Sky People, are they peaceful, truly?" She asked pointedly.

"I hope so. Otherwise..." He let the implications of that statement linger in the air. It was a terrible thought to know that somewhere up above, orbiting this virgin world, was a battleship with the power to bombard anything on the planet. Maybe those people had seen enough death, perhaps they had been cleansed of any desire to kill or take by force. Yet somehow Jake doubted it. They would be peaceful enough at first, in all probability, but they would grow and spread, fight amongst themselves and turn Pandora into another Earth. Unless they could be made to _see_, there was little hope of a positive outcome.

"We must make them _see. _They must learn, like you." Neytiri added, somehow reading the general tenor of his thoughts. "It is the only way."

Jake only nodded briefly, reaching for his _ikran _again, feeling the beast's growing unease with this unfamiliar place. It was time to finish the journey back to Hell's Gate, to face these survivors and learn their true intentions. Sleep would have to wait, for morning glow already crept up over the horizon and the delegation would be landing soon.

* * *

"Dropship Delta Five-Zero on approach vector."

"Roger, Delta Five-Zero, we have you on approach. Landing zone is clear. Do not deviate." Trudy replied. Whatever vulnerability she had expressed the previous day had been thoroughly banished. What remained behind was the shell of an ex-marine, a soldier who had never truly lost touch with that lingering sense of duty. The universe could blow itself up in a fit of idiocy, but it was her job to keep her presence of mind, to continue fighting even when others cowered in fear. It was like they had told her in boot camp, a marine was the one running towards the enemy, when all others were fleeing.

The shuttle set down on the cracked pavement, blowing loose fragments and some of the plants which had tentatively taken hold there. Its design was similar to the Valkyries which had preceded it, but it was newer, sleeker and somewhat larger. Trudy immediately noticed the weapon hard-points that had been mounted above the craft, where reentry friction would not melt them. Though the hard-points were empty of any actual weaponry, this was obviously more than just a dropship. Such things had been illegal by every Earth treaty she knew about, but the situation had obviously changed some time after she left for Pandora.

"So what now?" Trudy sighed wearily.

"Not sure. I mean, what do you _say_ to something like this?" Norm asked darkly.

"I dunno. But we should go out there and smooth things over before those Na'vi perched out there decide to skewer them." Trudy smiled weakly.

"Suppose that's my problem." Norm answered. Despite the painful loss of his avatar after that terrible battle, he was still the foremost _human_ expert on the Na'vi left on planet. Trudy had learned some of the Na'vi language over the years, but Norm was by far the most proficient in Hell's Gate. Donning his exopack, he made for the airlock, pausing only to squeeze Trudy's hand gently as he passed by.

Outside, _ikran _were everywhere, many leaders and warriors roosting on the ops tower, glaring with terrible suspicion at the newcomers as they descended down the shuttle ramp. Some had bows drawn warily, searching for any hint of malice on the part of these Sky People who had foolishly destroyed their own home and now came to settle here. Jake had told them of the story, and at first they couldn't believe even Sky People could be so terribly destructive. Yet _Toruk Makto_ insisted it was true and Neytiri's confirmation had sealed it.

"Peace, brothers." Norm yelled, waving his hands wildly to get their attention. Many of the Na'vi were still wary of the humans remaining at the old base, yet most had come to grudgingly accept them, even if they still didn't particularly _like_ them. The sight of them brought a pang of sadness at the remembrance of his avatar body, long since dead. Many calmed at Norm's words, relieving the tension in their bows, settling down slightly. Yet there was still distrust in their eyes, a wariness that would have to be overcome. Norm had never been a betting man, but if he had to place odds on the outcome of these talks, the scientist certainly wouldn't have put his money on the humans.

Turning to face the assembled delegation standing patiently in front of the dropship, Norm spoke quickly. "I'm Norm Spellman, a researcher here. I'd welcome you, but as you can see, not everyone is exactly happy to see you."

"I'm Captain Ryan Larson, skipper of the _Montana_." A hand extended forward, and Norm grasped it halfheartedly. Truth be told, he wasn't happy to see them either. For a moment, the scientist regard this newcomer. The man was young for such a rank, probably somewhere in his mid-thirties, skin showing a few errant wrinkles and several scars that looked something like burn marks. He was tall, yet despite his height and the full-dress naval uniform, the man wasn't imposing at all. If anything, Norm pegged him as someone to pity more than to fear. The hunch in his stance and the slight limp he carried only added to that broken image.

"Jake Sully isn't back yet. You'll be talking to him about most of this. But before you do, I have one question for you." Norm's expression turned cold.

"Yes?"

"Why did you do it?" The scientist demanded. The question had been burning in his mind ever since the dropship had broke atmosphere. He simply _had_ to know why, it was part of being a researcher, to understand the reasons behind a thing.

"We didn't do it. God, we tried to stop it." Larson's expression turned grave. "I don't know who launched it. Look, I get it, okay? You don't trust us, you don't want us here." The skipper waved distractedly towards the Na'vi all around. "Honestly, I wouldn't want me here either, in your shoes."

Overhead, a pair of _ikran _descended from the morning skies, and Norm felt a certain amount of relief at the sight of Jake and Neytiri. Part of him just wanted to throttle this captain, to just release his anger, to hold _someone_ responsible. Yet Norm had never been a violent man, even going into battle in his avatar all those years ago had been difficult enough. But Pandora and the Na'vi were worth fighting for, worth preserving. In a sense, there's was a culture of enlightened innocence, a people who didn't have to deal with the darker nature of man. Norm would do anything to keep it that way.

"Jake Sully, I'm guessing." The skipper pointed briefly. "You know, back on Earth, they called him the race traitor. They said he actually swapped bodies and mated with a local princess or something."

"He did. But he's no traitor. You people... you're the ones who destroyed Earth, not him." Norm replied angrily.

"Well, I never believed company propaganda anyway. It's a question though. We brought along some genome sequencing equipment and growth tubes to that end." Larson rambled.

"You did _what?_" Norm asked, at once horrified and intrigued. "You didn't say anything about growing Avatars."

"Didn't think it was important to you. We picked up survivors from RDA headquarters in Earth orbit. It seemed like a good idea to salvage the Avatar program equipment too, given where we were headed." Larson scratched his chin briefly in thought. His associates whispered amongst themselves and Norm grew suspicious. When something sounded too good to be true, especially after all of the bad that had just happened, it usually was.

"Well there's Jake. Good luck with him..." Norm left that comment hanging in the air as he trudged back to the Ops tower, sparing a glance at the Na'vi watching from above. He cursed himself for that selfish impulse, that sudden flare of hope that he might be able to grow a new Avatar. Earth was gone, Pandora was under a grave threat and Trudy needed him, this wasn't the time to be thinking of running around the forest in an alien body. Yet he couldn't deny the truth of it, he missed it, even though he had only had that body for so short of a time.

Heat fell down upon the humans, perspiration glistening from within exopack masks. Jake let them sweat a little. Perhaps it was cruel, but they were the guests here, they would have to learn quickly that this world was not theirs to take. All around the base, _ikran _roosted and Na'vi warriors glared at the newcomers with pent-up hostility, the decided sense of _un_welcome prevailing everywhere.

This captain continued to spill out his tale of woe, and Jake felt the agony of his own involvement in all that had happened. It was a terrible thing he would have to come to terms with sooner or later. It was true that he hadn't _caused _the destruction, yet the collapse of RDA's operation on Pandora had been the first domino to fall in a long line of catastrophic events.

"...So when RDA declared bankruptcy after the news, her colonies on Mars and the Asteroid belt, where the ISVs were built, demanded to be allowed to stay in their homes. Some families had been there for fifty years or more. There were already almost two million people on Mars Colony alone, and the shipyards in the belt had pretty substantial numbers too. Earth refused to send any further supplies, and tried repossessing the Colony equipment and unobtainium as part of the bankruptcy proceedings. The people there went nuts over the proposed relocation and kicked the Earth reps out."

"Of course, they didn't like that so much. The Colonies officially split with RDA, declaring independence from the Company and Earth." Larson explained. There was cruel sort of irony at work here, where RDA was forced to relocate at gunpoint, or face destruction for the unobtainium they possessed. _The shoe was on the other foot,_ Jake thought. Yet guilt flared in his awareness, regret that things had to turn out this way, that no peaceful resolution to the mining problem had been found.

"It went south in a real hurry. The shipyards in the belt began building warships instead of ISVs. RDA apparently already had designs for them on the books. Earth didn't have that kind of ship-building infrastructure, but still managed to launch some battleships of their own. For a few years, it was like a kind of cold war. Until the plague hit Mars Colony." The captain continued, cringing at painful memory. "The outbreak wiped out half of the population in a matter of months, the rest died slower. It was a declaration of war."

Jake listened, horrified, as the delegation explained the nature of the conflict that had driven mankind to the brink of extinction. Marine training kicked in at some point, allowing him to maintain that impassive expression even as he learned of humanity's brutal fall from grace. Yet he could sense Neytiri behind him, her concern for him growing with each word.

"We still had the fleet though, so we attacked, hoping to take control of the orbitals and force whoever engineered the virus to handover a cure, or at least the research used to create it and serious medical aid. We were winning, we really were... the UN fleet was shattered and about to retreat when the asteroid hit."

"Who launched the asteroid?" Jake demanded. Behind him, Neytiri tried to translate some of the concepts to the assembled leaders, but in truth they were less concerned with _how_ the Sky People had managed to kill themselves. For them, the sticking point was that they _had_ managed to do it. How could anyone live with such destructive people lurking about?

"Nobody knows. It wasn't us fleet people, and it sure as hell wasn't them. We even declared a ceasefire when we noticed it incoming, tried to break it apart with nukes. There wasn't enough time." Larson shook his head sadly. "All we wanted was control of the orbitals, not to destroy the entire fucking planet."

"So yours was the only surviving ship? How many survived?" Jake asked, putting aside that sinking feeling he felt in the pit of his stomach.

"There were other ships, but _Montana_ was the only one without a lot of battle damage. Survivors are from both sides, we have 643 souls aboard. Most of them are from the battleships, a few survived on RDA's space station. Look, I don't want to sit here and beg, but what choice is there? We just want to survive." Larson replied.

"I want to help," Jake began sincerely. "There's trouble though. You have a warship parked in orbit, and that's like holding a gun to the entire planet. It has to go. And Norm mentioned something about Avatar growth equipment."

"Yeah. You transferred your mind into an avatar, right? You can breathe the air, eat the food, fight the local wildlife, and generally not _die_ on this planet." The skipper began, pausing to wipe away the sweat collecting in his exopack. "Well, we were figuring on doing the same thing, eventually..."

_**Author's Note: **I have, by necessity, added an OC in the form of Capt. Ryan Larson. There will be at least one other new character introduced later. Normally I try to avoid too much focus on OCs in fan-fiction, as it can sometimes come off as self-insertion or take the story too far from its roots. However I don't intend to focus too much on the new characters... Hopefully you don't mind. _

_I promise that I'm going somewhere with the Avatar equipment bit and with the Na'vi clan leaders showing up. The next chapter will deal more heavily with both items. Also, the bit about not knowing who launched the asteroid is a key part. There's a mystery element here, and I'll be developing that more in the next chapters. _

_As always, let me know what you think. Also, the story outline I've developed for this is rather complex, and it's getting difficult enough to translate it into chapters that I may enlist the help of Beta Readers. I've never done that before, as I have preferred to simply put my stories out there and let people decide for themselves if they like it or not... but this story is different, I really want it to work, so if you're interested in becoming a Beta, let me know._


	4. Early In The Morning

**Chapter 4 – Early in the Morning**

After so much blood had been shed, so much damage wrought on both sides, it had seemed there was little hope for reconciliation. Sky People would never change, would never _see_ the wonder of the world around them. For them, it would only be a last refuge, a place of final retreat, where they might survive and grow once more into the beasts they had shown themselves to be. Yet even as Na'vi eyes contemplated the humans with disgust, there was the evidence laid before them, in the form of _Toruk Makto,_ one who had once flown with the enemy, but now flew among them. The only thing all agreed on with any certainty was that Sky People were complicated creatures, whose motivations were not immediately apparent to anyone, least of all themselves.

Perhaps that was the real gulf which divided them, beyond the dead on both sides, past the destruction which had been wrought. Na'vi knew, from birth, why they lived, why they died and where all souls were fated to be. Sky People knew no such things, driving their efforts to conquer the stars instead. This, they had done, yet in the process they had annihilated themselves with the very power they had bestowed upon themselves. They did not _see _the inevitability of it all.

"_You would become dreamwalkers?"_ Awkey, leader of the Plains Clan asked, allowing Neytiri to translate for him.

"Yes, it would take many years to grow Avatar bodies, but that is what we want to do in order to survive." Larson explained simply, nodding respectfully to the warrior. Fire light glistened off of his mask, the cold night air seeping into his bones. It was some kind of native tradition to discuss such matters around a bonfire, though it looked rather strange in the middle of the shuttle runway. These negotiations had continued for many hours, and he grew weary of retreading the same topics again and again. Yet the Na'vi were relentless, searching for a trap, trying to catch him in lie.

"You would become your own clan?" Neytiri asked of her own accord. This was important, for there were no clans who would want to permanently shelter so many Sky People, dreamwalkers or not.

"Uh... yeah, I guess. Look, the plan is, we use your stereo-lithography plant to construct more growth tubes, and use the.. what do you call it?" Larson interrupted, looking over at Max Patel, the well-known Avatar researcher who had elected to stay behind.

"Xeno-genome sequencing system, or XGSS. It's the key to the whole Avatar program, it allows us to combine the DNA of our Na'vi samples and human donors. The actual growth part is relatively easy by comparison." Max explained.

"Yeah, that. Well anyway, we use that to start up the growth of the Avatar bodies, wait a few years for them to grow, then do whatever Jake here did." Larson continued. The Na'vi frowned slightly at this as Neytiri translated.

"You know, it wasn't that simple. I'm going to warn you, there's no guarantee it would even work for everyone." Jake pointed out. The captain merely nodded in acknowledgment.

"_I will agree to this if you learn our ways, if we approve of you._" Awkey replied as Neytiri struggled to keep up and Norm helped her through it. _"You must prove your worth to us, and those who fail will not pass through the Eye of Eywa."_ Many other Na'vi discussed this, and there was a sort of general consensus that most of the Sky People would fail these tests anyway. It wouldn't harm them to allow the humans to _try _to save themselves.

"Your machines are not welcome outside of this land." Neytiri added, gesturing to the base around them. It was important to all Na'vi that the great mining machines of the past remained as they were, lifeless hulks slowly covered by the forest.

"_None of your Sky People weapons are to be allowed." _Another leader demanded. That, too, was important. None of the Na'vi gathered around the fire had any desire to fight against Sky People machines again. The carnage they doled out indiscriminately was horrific by any standard.

"_If you are found desecrating our lands, you will be killed." _And so it went on for quite some time, each Na'vi leader adding a term here and a condition there. Yet Jake knew them all for reasonable terms, for a people who had suffered so greatly from human hands.

"How do we defend ourselves against attacks from predators? We don't have any heavy ground forces, but we do have sidearms and rifles." Larson asked simply.

"We'll establish a zone around Hell's Gate. Inside the zone, you can use your weapons. Outside of it, you will have to use weapons similar to the Na'vi. They are offering to help train your people when the time comes, so you won't be helpless." Jake replied, calming himself. All in all he was rather surprised that the Na'vi had caved in at all. As he searched their faces, however, he saw the real truth buried behind their eyes. They fully expected the humans to fail and probably die in the process, or at least trouble them no further. These leaders were willing to give the Sky People a thin chance at survival, of a sort, but only on their terms. It was better than nothing at all, though.

"The Avatars will take an absolute minimum of 3 years to grow, though I'd recommend at least 4." Max added. "And that's not including the time we need to construct the growth tubes in the stereo-lithography plant. There's a reason they didn't do this on Pandora to begin with, after all."

"You do realize you are effectively making the human race extinct?" Norm questioned.

"It's too late for that anyway. Of our batch of survivors, only 213 are women. That's about a 2 to 1 ratio, making the gene pool _very _small. I'm told it's not enough diversity for long term prospects of survival. Plus we don't have heavy industry either, so once things like exopacks fail, we're screwed. The better option is to preserve _some_ human DNA in the avatars and preserve some of our culture for posterity." Larson had obvious been preparing this little speech for quite sometime.

Awkey started laughing unexpectedly, making the humans slightly nervous. _"You are like ikran underneath Last Shadow. You do not know what fate looms over you."_ The Captain didn't understand the words, but the expression was all too familiar. This was a challenge, a thing to be defeated, and obviously the Na'vi didn't figure him or anyone else from _Montana_ up to it.

"We have an accord, then?" Jake offered his hand in human fashion as the other Na'vi leaders stood and nodded solemnly at the skipper. Larson gripped the outstretched hand, amazement at the sheer scale of the Na'vi etched onto his features. The flame was extinguished, a sign of agreement, that the council between tribes was at an end.

"We will transfer access codes to _Montana'_s computer systems tonight." That, too, was part of the agreement which had been discussed many times. The Captain had been unwilling to simply destroy the vessel, citing concerns about exactly who had launched the asteroid at Earth, and if that faction still existed somewhere. Jake would have none of it, not wanting any sort of gun looming over the people of Pandora. Only Norm's suggestion had saved the conference from almost immediate failure over that issue. All access codes would be given over to the researchers who had stayed on Pandora, the only humans the Na'vi truly trusted. The battleship would then be locked out, powered down, and left in orbit around the gas giant.

"_I hope you are right about these Sky People." _Awkey offered as he mounted his _pa'li. "We of the plains people suffered much at their hands."_

"_As did the Omaticaya. Though they were once my people too, I hesitate as much as you to unleash them here. Yet I cannot abandon them to death, either."_ Jake explained to the other leader.

"_You have a good heart, Jakesully. Let us hope this is truly the will of Eywa."_ Awkey finished, riding rapidly away into the night before Jake could reply. Neytiri, at least, was convinced that this was Eywa's will, that there was importance in all of this, beyond the mere survival of a handful of humans. How she knew such things, Jake could never fully explain, but he felt the sureness of her mind, the absolutely conviction in Eywa. Their hands met as the other leaders shuffled off towards their homes, minds heavy with thought.

"You know, all of you just made a whole lot of work for me." Max complained, interrupting Jake's thoughts. "Six _hundred_ Avatars? That's more than the entire program grew."

"Can't Norm help?" Jake asked even as Max shook his head.

"Sure, he can help with the growth process, but I'm the _only_ one who knows how to run the sequencing machines. Six hundred genetic profiles to sift through, I'm going to lose my mind..." At least he would finally have something to do, but it was as the old Earth saying went. Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.

* * *

**2 Weeks Later**

It had been Neytiri's idea, and perhaps one of the blue woman's better ones at that. Still, that didn't make Trudy any more comfortable with the situation. Apparently, the survivors were all too eager to throw some kind of "we're still alive" party, complete with some actual rum fished out of the battleship's stores. Even some of the Omaticaya had shown up for the event, though they mostly just watched the odd Sky People and their strange form of drunken dancing with something like mild amusement.

_What shall we do with the drunken sailor? Early in the morning?_

The engineering bay was the largest pressure-sealed room in Hell's Gate, and probably the only place on the planet where several hundred humans could drink themselves into the ground without suffocating to death. Music bellowed across the bay, drinks flowed and flavored algae rations abounded, though the last item wasn't particularly impressive. Na'vi watched from the sidelines, some of them actually chanting a bit to the unusual Earth folk music.

"Come on..." Norm begged. That, too, was just weird. The scientist was even less skilled than she was, if that were possible, and he was piss-drunk besides.

_Hooray and up she rises, early in the morning._

"Bitch, you think I'm going out there with you?" She smiled despite herself. They had been together, in a strange sort of way, for over a decade now. Although their roles were somewhat reversed from a typical relationship, it worked for them. She could kick his skinny ass any time she really felt like it, and she saw that as a good thing. Certainly Norm wouldn't do anything to hurt her, out of self-preservation as much as love.

"You're coming out here." Norm demanded. "Come on, how often do we get to do this?"

Trudy allowed herself to be tugged along by the drunken scientist, and not five seconds passed before he landed squarely on her feet. But it didn't matter. He was right, it had been a long time since anyone had just _let go _around here, and it did feel relieving somehow.

_Give 'im a dose of salty water, early in the morning._

Neytiri watched the humans go about their gathering with curiosity. All of her life, she had seen Sky People destroying, killing or trying to use their _science_ on everything. She had mistakenly thought of most of them as creatures without any capacity to enjoy life. Even though she had suggested the idea of a gathering, to try and relieve the tensions between both peoples, she hadn't expected it to end up like this. Her nostrils twitched at the offensive beverage they produced, however. This _rum_ drink was rather vile, and she wanted nothing to do with it.

Her eyes fixed upon her mate, lingering at the edge of the party, talking with the Sky People captain. She frowned at that sight, annoyance creeping into her mind. As the humans often said, this was not the time to discuss business, this was a time to let such worries wait.

_Take 'im and shake 'im and try and wake 'im._

"Nice party." Larson admired, sipping on rum mixed with some soda water. "Good idea too. Shit was getting way too serious for my taste."

"Yeah," Jake replied. "Sometimes you have to let things go for awhile."

"Probably right. Been meaning to ask you... why'd you do it?"

"You mean merge with this body?" Jake questioned.

"Yeah." The captain said simply. For his part, Jake just pointed vaguely in the direction of lifemate, smiling despite himself.

"Can't argue with that, I guess. Beats surviving the end of the world and having no choice." The captain finished his drink, nodding at Jake as he politely made for the alcohol, dodging dancing couples and drunken crewmen along the way.

"My Jake, you do not join?" Neytiri asked as she reached for his hand. Jake shook his head, but his mate would have none of it. She actually found herself enjoying this strange music, it would seem the Sky People had a talent for such things. Perhaps they truly could do more than destroy.

_Put 'im in the longboat till he gets sober._

Most of the humans scurried out of the way of the pair of giant Na'vi bodies, giving them a rather wide berth. Yet there were amused expressions and some began to clap their hands in time with the music, urging the massive couple on. If Jake still possessed a human face, it would have been scarlet with embarrassment. _Neytiri is enjoying this at my expense,_ he thought, amused. His mate had a way of doing that, it had been a consistent feature of their relationship ever since she had saved him from the _nantang_ all those years ago.

Apparently that was the general cue for the other Omaticaya lurking about to try their own dances, very different from anything the Sky People had ever seen. Some of the humans actually tried to emulate some of their moves, mostly failing, but laughing anyway.

_Heave him by his legs with a running bowline._

Norm panted with exhaustion, wiping the sweat from his brow. Exiting the makeshift dance floor, he made for the rum bottles with wry amusement. Larson had given up mixing his drinks or even pouring them, simply walking around with a bottle attached to his hand as if it had simply grown there.

"You're Norman, the scientist, right?" The captain took a long pull from the bottle, belching as he finished.

"Graceful. Yeah, I'm Norm." He replied acidly. This party might be all good and well, but trust was a thing that would have to be earned in the long term.

_Shave his belly with a rusty razor._

"Well, it's a pleasure. Tomorrow, you'll still hate us, and Na'vi will still want to kill us... but for now, how about you have a drink with me?" The skipper offered, stumbling around slightly. His hand was attached to the bottle like a lifeline, which didn't really surprise the scientist, given all the man had witnessed. If he had been there to see the end of Earth, he'd probably want to be plastered beyond rational thought too.

"I can do that..." Norm smiled amicably, clinking his glass with the captain's bottle. That's when he noticed Jake and Neytiri trying to dance and failing rather spectacularly, people scrambling out of the way. _Finally_, Norm thought, _someone worse at this than me._

_That's what we do with the drunken sailor. Early in the morning._

_**Author's Note: **__I apologize for not reply to the many beta reader requests I received from you. You all have my thanks for volunteering for this, and I will be reading through your messages and getting back to you soon with an answer on that. As always, thanks for reading, reviewing and helping me along the way, it is much appreciated._

_As for the song mentioned here, it is an old Naval folk song called "The Drunken Sailor. I figure it would be rather appropriate for the crewmen from a battleship, even a space-borne one. Also, the catchy tune and simple beat would be something the Na'vi would probably recognize and have some attraction to._


	5. Fallen Stars

**Chapter 5 – Fallen Stars**

Most of the great vessel was already dark, the remaining lighting casting shadows everywhere about the cramped bridge of the _Montana_. Sorrow fell upon her captain then, the battleship was more than just his command, it was his final link with the life he had left behind. She was a tenuous connection to a place that no longer existed, a cast-out shell of metal and machinery. The tactical console powered down, sending the mighty warship into much-deserved rest, earned from the fiery hell of battle. She was to sleep in orbit around the gas giant until her orbited decayed centuries from now and she plunged to her inevitable destruction.

Trudy Chacon shifted uncomfortably behind him, reminding the man that all was not well just yet, that much trust remained to be earned for the survivors. The pilot certainly had nothing but scathing sarcasm for the refugees. It was like a lingering distate that would never be fully extinguished. Perhaps it was deserved, for he had witnessed the largest slaughter in the history of humanity. More had died in that single moment than every war he had ever heard of, combined. An interstellar lump of rock propelled by the whims of madmen had wiped clean an entire civilization as if it had never existed. Even proximity to such an event created an emotional bloodstain that would never fully wear off. Like the shrapnel wound which had given the man his limp, it was a thing that would never truly heal.

"You done?" Trudy asked acidly, interrupting the skipper's thoughts. Part of the deal included the pilot's supervision. Larson couldn't blame the scientists or the Na'vi for insisting on such things, yet the distrust was frustrating at times. There was a great deal of bad blood to be mended between both sides.

"Yeah. Just wanted to say goodbye to the old girl, you know? She was my first command. My only command now." Larson explained, shutting the hatch reverently behind him. Strangely enough, the pilot contemplated this with the first air of sympathy he had ever seen from her.

"Yeah, I get it." Trudy answered. Something in her gaze seemed to indicate she, too, had lost much over the years. Silence ruled between them as they marched down the abandoned corridors of the command module. The central core of _Montana _had light artificial gravity provided by a rotating core within the ship. The rest of the ship was easily navigable only with magnetic boots. The sound of their footfalls echoed everywhere inside the abandoned warship, sounding ever so much like a cave far below the Earth.

"Goodbye." Larson whispered wistfully as he entered the dropship. Yet a part of him couldn't help but feel it wasn't a truly final farewell. Behind him, the ship's structure groaned, as if in protest.

Max Patel wasn't given over to cursing very often, yet the present situation almost demanded a few choice words. Genome sequencing computers and genetic samples were scattered almost haphazardly around the lab, looking like something out of a bad holo-band flick, where the protagonist shows up in some mad scientist's evil laboratory. Still, it was comforting in a familiar sort of way. If there wasn't so much work to be done, he might have considered it rather home-like.

Eyes focused on the results from the latest sample, one of nearly one hundred Na'vi DNA profiles stored in the computer. Part of him almost felt guilty at this, the samples were undoubtedly taken from dead Na'vi long ago when RDA first showed up on Pandora, but nothing could be done about that now. At least their genome would live on, sort of, but certainly not in the manner any Na'vi would have intended.

"How goes it?" Jake's voice snapped the scientist out of his reverie.

"It would go better if you left me alone." Max answered, exhausted.

"Well there's been some discussion about the plan to grow the avatars. It might ease your workload somewhat. But if you want me to go..." Jake smiled.

"What is it?" Max asked, suddenly curious.

"We only have 26 link machines, including the spare, and we can't manufacture those here. So the idea is to grown the avatars in batches of 25 each year." Jake offered. "Gives you a lot more time to do... whatever it is you do here."

"So you're figuring we sequence 25 people, wait a year, then rinse and repeat. Four years from now the first ones mature, and then what?" Max asked simply.

"We train them. The Na'vi give each group of 25 a year to figure out how to live on their own here, or..." Jake didn't need to complete that thought. Failure on Pandora probably meant the death of the avatar anyway. There would be a few of those, no doubt, and some who simply couldn't have an avatar grown for them in the first place due to genetic disorders. Many would be stuck at Hell's Gate permanently, praying that the place didn't fall apart in their lifetimes. That was a risky bet only a few were willing to take.

"Well that's a little better. We're looking at almost twenty years to do the entire population, then. So who goes first?" Max replied, relaxing slightly. This _was _better than trying to grow six hundred bodies at once.

"We'll take volunteers for that. But I'm betting Norm signs up right away, maybe Trudy along with him. And this captain of theirs better be one of the volunteers, set an example and all." Jake answered darkly, but he wasn't really focused on the problem anymore. There were other concerns that involved less science and more action, those problems were issues he could solve.

"Are the Omaticaya going to accept so many?" Max asked.

"No. The idea is that these idiots form their own clan and mind their own business." Jake answered, letting the comment linger in the air as he left.

"Humans minding their own business? Right..." Max replied, mostly to himself.

* * *

Rain drizzled from the gray skies, the patter of drops on the leaves surrounding him, masking his footfalls upon the soil. Life was everywhere around Jake, dancing in a symphony of majestic harmony, so unlike the old dying jungles of an Earth that no longer existed. Pandora was alive in a way Earth had never been, even in the ancient days, and he felt the energy of it all around him. It was invigorating, even intoxicating in its own way. He had fallen prey to the spell of this world, just as the _yerik_ before him would fall prey to his arrow and blade.

Each stretch of the bow was masked by the sounds of the forest, each movement carefully calculated. He drew a bead on the creature, letting the arrow fly into its flank. Lifeblood leaked from the fallen animal, even as it bleated in terrible pain. A genuine pang of regret coursed through him, a natural patten all Na'vi had fallen into, for to them all life was sacred. As he leaped forward, knife blade extended, the words echoed in his mind. It was with love that he spoke them, ending the _yerik'_s suffering with an expert stab to the heart.

The beast was larger than most, and it was with a hint of pride that he realized how many of the clan could be fed by the nourishing meat it contained. They might have forced him into accepting the role of _Olo'eytkan,_ but whatever they chose to call him, he was a hunter and a flier. These were the things he was born to do, and he felt the satisfaction of it.

Rain abated slowly as he journeyed back to home tree, dragging the carcass along behind him with a sled-like contraption. His muscles ached with the effort, but it was good. This life wasn't for everyone, actually it probably wasn't even for most people, but it suited him perfectly. After all, he had been a marine once, he could pass any test a man could pass, or so he had told himself. Part of him wondered if the newcomers would ever adapt to the manual labor, the risk of the hunt or life among the trees.

Neytiri was waiting for him at the base of Hometree, her proud eyes shining with the sight of the kill he had made. Once, long ago, she had laughed at his pathetic attempts at hunting or even drawing a bowstring. Things had changed greatly in that time. He barely remembered his human life, it was like something out of an old dream. Perhaps Mo'at had been right when she had told him that his soul belonged among the people, even if his original body had come from so far away. It had been the closest thing to a compliment Neytiri's mother had ever given him.

"I see you." She greeted happily, the iridescent lines and dots on her face almost a mirror-image of his own. As they grew stronger in the bond, thoughts and personalities began to almost intermingle. He felt as she did, knew what she knew and there was even a similarity in basic mannerisms. They were separate, yet they were one. It was a contradiction that had taken a great deal of time to get used to.

"I see you." He replied. "We shall eat well tonight."

"It is a fine kill." Neytiri examined the carcass, choosing which bits of meat she would share with the others and which they would enjoy this night. Certainly unlike human tribesmen in the ancient days, there was a sharing of responsibility not a delegation of it. Sometimes _he_ was expected to cook, to cut the meat and prepare the meal. Other times, his mate would attend to the matter. There had been a great deal of teasing heaped at his inability to cook anything properly at first. He had once been a marine, and if there was any constant in the universe, it was the utter inability of a marine to make anything even remotely edible. Yet, like all things, he had mastered a basic competency over time. At least Neytiri's face didn't register terror anymore when he did the cooking.

"Will the Sky People learn these things, as you have?" Neytiri asked as she began stripping the hide with expert hands.

"Some of it, I think. They will never live exactly like the People, but maybe they can still walk with Eywa." Jake answered as he rested for a moment, drinking copious amounts of water. That was certainly true enough. Perhaps the newcomers would regress to a form of village life, a synthesis of the Na'vi ways and their own. Few would choose to live as he did, however. That much he knew with certainty.

"They will be the Sky Clan?" Neytiri asked simply, focusing on her work. Her boundless curiosity was somewhat like that of a human, though Jake wasn't sure if that was the influence of the bond or if it was simply her way of looking at the world.

"Yes. Maybe they will build a _village_. Like the dreamwalker place." The avatar barracks would make a good model for such a life, actually. They were still thoroughly natural and yet familiar enough to man to serve as a model for home.

"They will not be like us. But they will no longer be Sky People either." Neytiri observed. She always had a way of reducing things to the basic essentials, stripping away the complex details and focusing on what was truly important. It was a Na'vi trait in general, but his mate took that to a sort of extreme. It was one of the traits he loved most about her, for a part of him had always felt the same. His brother had always focused on the complex mysteries of the universe while had had simply wanted to run, to fly and to enjoy life. They were twins, yet they couldn't have been more different. Still, even with the memories so distant in his mind, Tom's loss continued to hurt. It was a deep pain that would never be excised completely.

As always, his mate sensed the changes in his thoughts almost instinctively, bringing his forehead to hers, embracing him gently. Her lips were upon his, dancing lightly, almost teasing him. Jake allowed himself to fall into the moment, reaching his arms around his lifemate, letting that all-powerful _feeling_ consume him utterly.

"So we need volunteers, twenty-three in total. I'll remind you, once you're in, there's no turning back. It takes too much effort and too much time to just back out." Norm addressed the crowd in the engineering bay as men and women shifted about uncomfortably. No one truly _wanted_ this transformation, but most acknowledged the dire need to go through with it before the industrial capabilities of this base failed forever. Fortunately, the survivors had been from the spacecraft in orbit over Earth, there were no children among them to explain the thing to. That certainly saved on a great deal of potential psychological trauma, and yet it was also a fact the assembled group felt almost instinctively. There were no children to protect, no nest so to speak, no place to call home. This would be a long, arduous task that would likely take decades to bring to completion. Many would fail under the mental strain of it.

Norm himself had volunteered for the first round, a pang of excitement had shot through him at the opportunity to have an avatar again, no matter what the eventual outcome was going to be. Trudy had grudgingly accepted it as well, but mostly for her own reasons. "It wouldn't hurt to be under 20 again." She had observed wryly, in typical Trudy fashion. That left twenty-three spots open for the first round.

"Four years from now, the first avatars will be ready for training. Should you pass the training, your mind will be permanently bonded to the new body, so that the link chambers will be free for the next round of trainees." Norm spoke, trying to control his nervousness. Public speaking wasn't exactly a forte of his.

"I'll do it." It was Captain Larson. _Well Jake called that one,_ Norm thought. Still, there was a certain practicality behind it. If the skipper could handle the situation, it would help motivate the others to accept it. Sure enough, a few other hands began to raise tentatively, and before long the queue had been filled. _Now, _he thought, _the real fun begins._


	6. Parris Island, Pandora

**Chapter 6 – Parris Island, Pandora**

**4 Years later**

Morning glow cast the muddy clearing in white light, highlighting the herd of _pa'li _waiting patiently for their masters, chewing at plants and flicking away insects. Some twitched nervously as unfamiliar scents wafted in from afar. Eyes darted back and forth, searching for the source of the strange smells, fixing upon the avatars as the entered the clearing, followed by several Omaticaya warriors, watching patiently from the forest. From far above, _ikran_ calls could be heard and the sounds of _yerik_ herds echoed everywhere. Sounds and scents were everywhere, nearly overwhelming the recruits with their intensity, so much stronger than any human body had experienced.

Sunlight bathed the nervous recruits, some trying desperately to cover themselves modestly. Na'vi loincloths and beaded tops left little to the imagination and most of the women in the group were blocking sensitive areas with their arms. All shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to expect or what strange tasks awaited them. Only Captain Larson remained perfectly still, his posture held straight for the first time in many years. In his human form, the skipper had appeared used up, weak and debilitated. Jake felt a certain kinship with the man, though the captain's injuries were nothing like those he had sustained, there was still an understanding of what it must feel like to run again, to stand straight and tall instead of hunched over and limping.

For his part, Jake remained motionless, standing fully straight, looking rather like a drill instructor. It was an image he cultivated intentionally with great effort. It wasn't that he wanted to be a hard-ass or even felt particularly inclined to yell at these people. But his marine training was certainly a good starting point for instilling a sense of respect for the dangers of this world. They would have to learn how to live on Pandora on their own, how to survive the prowling _nantang_ and the fearsome _Palulukan. _The forest was a beautiful place full of life and love, but it was also a deadly world that wouldn't hesitate to kill the unwary and the inexperienced. It was his job to hammer that fact in and if he failed, there would be deaths.

"All right. Which one of you pansy-ass blue-skin dumb-shits is gonna volunteer first?" Jake demanded as many Omaticaya warriors looked on with profound amusement. Certainly none of them had ever seen the training rituals which produced Sky People warriors. Every clan had its right of passage and most of them were unique to that particular tribe, it would make sense that even _Tawtute_ would have such a thing. Curious eyes watched the odd human ways of building a warrior's strength of mind and body with both deep respect and a measure of doubt. These dreamwalkers had a long way to go if they were to learn the ways of the People, or to see Eywa in their hearts.

"I'll go first, sir." One of the men replied confidently.

"Do you have any idea what you volunteered for?" Jake asked, his voice booming across the clearing.

"No, sir." The man answered.

"You just volunteered to give me ten laps around this field. Get moving! Next time I ask for heroes, no one better step forward, got it? You go running off into the forest like some pompous ass and you'll be food for something a lot nastier than you." Jake explained as the frustrated man began running around the clearing, cursing the entire time.

For her part, Neytiri smiled knowingly, it was a situation she was familiar with. Memories flowed from her mind, images she had picked up from her lifemate over the years. The huntress could see a human male yelling at men crawling through the mud, pushing them onward over ropes and screaming across rain-soaked gunnery ranges. Sky People took their training as seriously as any among the People. Without such hardening of character, Jake never would have been able to pass the tests of the Omaticaya, he never would have become _hers. _Her mate would prepare them first as Sky People warriors, then she could reach them, show them how to _see_ the world around them.

"You. Just what the hell do you think you're doing here?" Jake yelled at a woman who was more concerned with keeping her modesty than obeying orders. This tough-as-nails drill instructor bit was a difficult image to project, but Jake maintained the act well, remembering Parris Island and his own personal tour through recruit training hell.

"Uh..." The woman replied.

"Stand up straight. You gonna be fiddling with those clothes when a thanator wants to make a meal out of you?" Jake demanded. "You gonna put on makeup when a banshee wants to rip your face off?"

"No." Came the nervous reply.

"No, _sir."_ He corrected. "I don't know what kind of bullshit-training they gave you people to fly ships up there, but down here, there's Neytiri, there's me, there's Eywa, and there's God. Since they other two are unavailable, you're gonna answer to us. Got it?"

"Yes, sir." The woman answered more confidently.

"What's your name?" Jake demanded.

"Jane... Jane Meyers." The woman hesitated for a moment. Jake frowned, hesitation was truly a deadly thing out here in wilderness. Decisions had to be made quickly and decisively, reflexes had to be honed to perfection, or death would end the struggle. Yet she had not been the first to react this way, many of the avatar drivers were truly unprepared for the raw fury of this world, living within the confines of Hell's Gate. As Mo'at had said to him once, it was hard to fill a cup that was already full. It was time to empty these people out and start anew.

"No, from now on, your name is Loincloth." There were a few chuckles of amusement at this, but Jake's glare quickly silenced that. "Anytime I catch you messing with those clothes, you owe me 50 push-ups. Got it?" Jake didn't wait for the reply, moving on down the line as the others stood at perfect attention.

"Neytiri is going to teach you all how to ride a _pa'li_. You'll fall, it's going to hurt, and if any of you sissies pussy out, she's going to give you back to me. And you do NOT want that." Jake pointed at his lifemate and she hissed fiercely for effect. Truly, it was an easy emotion to convey in the presence of Sky People, even if they were dreamwalkers.

"Trudy, Norm. You're with me. Don't think I'm going easy on you either." Jake smiled with knowing anticipation as Neytiri ordered the dreamwalkers into line. For a moment, he thought back to his own wild training. He remembered his mate's curses, her dirty looks and frustrated body language. Yet even then he had seen something unique in her, some hint of what was to come. Memories were everywhere in his mind, his lifemate was calling him _skxawng, _her beautiful eyes were gazing into his with curiosity as she adjusted his bow, her natural grace flowed in his vision as she bounded across the forest floor in absolute silence. Neither of them had noticed as they had fallen for each other slowly, almost imperceptibly. Part of him almost wished for those simpler times again. He had great responsibilities now, a clan to lead, a child to care for and all of these avatar drivers to train.

Jake banished the errant thoughts from his mind. There was work to be done, and there would be time for family later.

"All right. You two are on the fast track, 'cause I need you to help out with the others." It was certainly true enough. Trudy, of course, had her marine training to back her up and Norm had plenty of prior experience running around in an avatar body. It would serve them both better to learn a little faster and it would set a great example for the others.

Pain shot through Trudy's arm like a jackhammer hitting her awareness. Such a fall would have snapped any human bone like a twig, but her stronger avatar body held firm even as she rolled with the impact. She had just enough time to scurry to her feet before Norm nearly fell on top of her, cursing the whole way down. Above, Jake almost glided, reaching for large leaves with obvious experience, slowing his descent enough that he rolled to his feet immediately on landing without so much as a scratch. Trudy frowned, she wasn't used to being on the receiving end of the hurt.

"Not bad for a first attempt," Jake began. "But we're doing it again."

"Come on, Jake." Norm complained, rolling his eyes. As he looked back towards Jake, the ex-marine was gone, seemingly vanished into thin air. Brief moments passed before a blue hand reached for his back, gripping it hard enough to force the scientist to his knees with pain.

"You come on. It's fun and games now, but when you bond with that body permanently and something eats you, there's no waking up in the link room." Jake chastised, letting the scientist up.

"Again." Jake demanded, climbing rapidly up the tree's flank. Behind him, Trudy obeyed silently, watching the man's moves, trying to understand just how he managed to climb so fast. Yet even as she thought about it, instinct began to take over, her hands digging into the tree trunk and pulling up ever-faster. Behind her, Norm barely kept up, but even he was definitely improving. _Just like a day on Parris Island,_ Trudy thought wryly, reaching the branch Jake had selected for their next controlled fall. Norm glared at her even as she blew him a kiss, puckering her lips with devilish mockery.

"Hurry your ass up here, Norm, or I'm pushing you off myself." Trudy laughed, ignoring the cuts and bruises she had obtained in fall after fall. She would get this right, she would defeat this damned world and she'd be damned if she let Norm off the hook either.

* * *

Direhorses, _pa'li,_ whatever their designation, the creatures were vile and treacherous and this Tse'lem was particularly uncooperative. In fact, Larson could feel the direhorse's dissatisfaction with his rider through this strange bond. _Okay, _he thought, _you're not Tse'lem, you're Gollum. _The name certainly fit the animal's devilish personality rather well.

Ryan Larson wanted nothing more to do with these beasts, but this warrior shaman woman had about as much toleration for failure as an inbound nuclear missile. Somehow he managed to hold on to the creature's neck, barely able to stop himself from falling on his ass, but that was a far cry from actually controlling the horse. This link would take some serious getting used to. For now, his mount just reared up impatiently as he tried to collect his thoughts, trying to _order_ him forward.

"This isn't working..." Larson complained, kicking his legs a bit like he had seen in the old Western holo-band flicks. That wasn't at all successful in getting the disobedient horse to move either.

"You must think, in your mind. Not order, think, as if _you_ were walking." Neytiri instructed, moving on to another candidate who had fallen straight into the mud bank. Well at least he'd managed not to do _that _just yet. _Okay, Gollum, let's try this real slow. Throw me on the ground and you're my dinner. _The animal snorted with displeasure, but began to creep forward as Larson gripped the creature's neck with all of his might.

Wind whipped around him as the direhorse gained speed, amazingly strong and fast for such a massive animal. Larson felt the animal's delight at galloping ever-faster towards the forest. For a moment, the horse seemed to forget that he carried this strange, foreign-smelling rider, just enjoying the feeling of water on his hooves, cooling and refreshing. _This isn't so bad,_ Larson thought, turning the horse around, galloping back towards the others. Neytiri nodded respectfully towards him, obvious pleased that at least one of the dreamwalkers had managed to figure it out on their own.

"Yee-haw!" Larson exclaimed, just like the western heroes in the old holo-band movies. Soon, however, he approached the other side of the clearing. Gollum was truly a magnificent, if stubborn, animal, able to run faster than any Terran horse he'd ever seen. They had covered the entire clearing in a matter of moments.

_Okay, now we have to stop. _That was a mistake. Either the Gollum simply didn't want to stop running or he had taken the command too literally. One moment Larson was yelling with delight and success, and the next he was flying through the air towards the forest like a missile. He had just enough time to register the thorny bushes ahead of him before the pain hammered at him from all sides. Still, the roaring laughter coming from Jake's mate stung much more than any thicket.

* * *

Pounding was everywhere in her skull, it felt like her brain had been hit with a jackhammer for the last several hours. Trudy discovered new-found admiration for the original Avatar drivers. Maybe she could kick Norm's ass in this body, but no matter his lack of military training, he was still far better adapted mentally for the challenge. As if to punctuate that thought, Norm simply stood up and reached for a glass of water as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

"You okay?" The scientist finally noticed her sulking by the edge of the link chamber.

"Headache." She complained. Norm wrapped his arm around her, letting her lean on him gently. Neither of them was overly affectionate with the other, yet it worked for them. It was the small gestures that truly counted among them both, and their relationship had built slowly upon such things, growing with each passing day.

"That's not all, is it?" He asked, as if already knowing the answer. Trudy wasn't a difficult person to read, even for one as socially awkward as Norm.

"No. Never done this kind of shit before. It really fucks with your head." She explained, splashing some of the water on her face.

"Yeah, it can do that. You'll get used to it though, it takes awhile sometimes." Norm answered, kissing her cheek. "Don't worry about it, okay?"

"Well it's not just that. Eventually we, uh, transfer to those bodies. Forever. Kind of fucked up." Trudy pointed out.

"At least we'll be breathing the atmosphere and eating something other than algae rations." Norm pointed out.

"That's something. God, that shit is nasty." Trudy smiled weakly, reaching for him, their lips touching gently in a brief peck that quickly became more urgent. "I'll miss this though." She managed between kisses.

Night had fallen over Hell's Gate, though a sort of twilight hovered perpetually over Pandora even in the darkest of times. The entire forest glowed faintly from beyond the walls and far above the gas giant reflected sunlight, so much brighter than the moon had ever been on old Terra. Norm suppressed a yawn, it had been a difficult day of training in his new Avatar body and even though his human form had not exerted any effort in the process, his mind still felt exhausted. Nonetheless, it was his rotation for nighttime Ops duty, and he had insisted on doing his job. Few, if any, in the old base had as much knowledge or experience manning these stations.

"...thi......com........ay.......rth." A strange radio signal flared into existence, just for a moment, interrupting his thoughts. It was probably an errant transmission from one of the habitation modules, but it wouldn't hurt to check. The scientist couldn't get a fix on it, but the source was definitely off planet. The satellite network in orbit had been decaying for years, and it was most likely malfunctioning again. After all, the satellite in question was reporting the signal's source as a tight-beam transmission from the Solar System. That couldn't be right, could it?

Norm eyed the console suspiciously, even a malfunction like this carried grave possibilities, and he rechecked the instruments. Nothing further came through, however, and the satellite in question began registering incorrect thermal readings on the planet surface. Well, at least that confirmed it was malfunctioning. Still, it would be well to report the incident to Jake. The scientist simply wasn't one to take chances with such matters.

_**Author's Note:** Special thanks to all of the beta-readers. In particular, I would like to recognize for helping me rework some of the Drill Instructor scenes here. For those of you I haven't contacted yet, don't worry. I need all the help I can get, and I'll be replying to you in short order as well. There are a great many more chapters to go in this fic, it will easily break 50,000 words at this rate and could even go about 100,000. Who knows, but there's a lot to get written down._

_For those who didn't catch the reference to Parris Island, that's where the Marine Corps trains. I figured it would be rather in-character for Jake to fall back on his marine training when trying to teach new recruits. Hopefully it works._


	7. Distant Light

**Chapter 7 – Distant Light**

Earth. Terra. A world by any other name and yet always just the same. Memories still existed of it, echoes of a time and place that remained only in his mind. Norm knew them as dreams, as fleeting glimpses caught in that moment between bodies, as if he were walking the empty streets of his former home once more. Night had fallen in the great metropolis, artificial light flickering from some ill-maintained power source. Rain fell from the stormy skies, wind kicked up across the half-abandoned streets, piled with refuse and oil-mixed brim.

He walked down the alley, hands in his pockets, kicking a discarded can with absent boredom. No one paid him any mind, going about their business oblivious to the fact that he even existed. It was the one social rule nearly everyone still obeyed: keep to yourself. Yet Norm had never _wanted_ to keep to himself, he always held that irrational desire for family, for love, an idealism that most found unwelcome. He took another swipe at the empty can and it fell into the sidewalk drain promptly, clanking sounds echoing everywhere in the foggy streets.

Far above, the clouds remained resolute, blocking the starlight, but the stars were still there someplace, still calling to him. Soon he would leave for Pandora, leaving this war-torn world behind him, quite possibly forever. Sure, his tour was only for six years, but many of the other scientists had stayed on far longer. Who would ever have wanted to come back to this? Alarms tolled from the broadcast towers, the ancient air-raid siren meant something very different now, and Norm fitted his breath-mask on distractedly. This, too, was part of normal life now. You could hardly breath the air here anymore, laced with toxic chemicals, radioactive particles and God knows what else.

Trudging on, the scientist found his apartment, keying the code in the door and unlocking the manual bolt. Norm frowned, one needed both systems to combat the rampant increase in crime as the global economy circled the drain, but it was very inconvenient. Yet the door would not budge, would not unlock, and he felt primal panic rise in him. Something was different, something was wrong, he felt it in that corner of the mind that always knows when death is lurking near. Dark clouds parted as the asteroid fell towards the Earth, fire licking up from the reentry, coming at him with impossible speed. He fumbled for the keys illogically, trying to escape the imminent certainty of death. All was white, all was black.

Norm awoke with a start, sweat dripping from his brow, the memory of the impact still fresh in his mind. It had been like this before, living in two bodies really messed with your mind. He had almost forgotten that, so excited had he been about a new avatar body. Yet the nightmare had served its purpose. With Earth gone, there wasn't any need to consider this body any longer. Existence stuck in Hell's Gate forever, or always forced to where masks to do anything, wasn't any kind of life at all. Certainly not when he had such a wondrous world around him now, a place that cried out for exploration, for understanding.

"What's wrong?" Trudy asked, stirring beside him.

"Nothing."

"Bullshit." Trudy replied angrily. "You lie to me and I kick your ass, got it?" Somehow, Norm knew she meant it. It was bizarre sometimes, but this was how their relationship worked. When she needed to clobber him for his own good, she was certainly more than willing to do so.

"Nightmare. You know, about old Earth." He explained gravely.

"Yeah. Been having some of those too." Trudy shook her head, sitting up and curling the sheets around her body. Norm couldn't help but admire the shapely lines of her figure, still gorgeous after so many years. "Hard to believe the whole fucking place is just... gone." She continued.

"So much of what we were doing here was supposed to help Earth, you know? We were supposed to be the good guys." Norm mused wistfully.

"Good and bad... not as easy as they seem, are they?" Trudy asked, wrapping an arm around him protectively. "But enough of this shit. You owe me breakfast." She teased.

"Better get to it, I suppose." Norm smiled halfheartedly, the memories of the dream still caught in his mind. Yet Trudy always knew how to get him out of these moods, and he felt himself warming up to her anyway. Many accused her of simple-mindedness, and perhaps this was _technically_ true, she certainly wasn't any kind of scientist. But she had a certain wisdom about the world, she understood people, she understood how to survive. On Pandora, those were two traits that would never steer you wrong, and Norm wished he had even half of the ability she had.

"Damn right. I'm hungry." She complained, forcing herself out of bed. "Better not be algae rations again, either."

"Still got some of the eggs from the cloning lab. I made sure to grab some for you before the others got to them." Norm stood proudly.

"Over medium, bitch." She teased. He nodded in return, but couldn't help but think scrambled might have been a better choice, given his current state of mind.

* * *

"You're late." Jake's voice was the first sensation as he plugged back in to his Avatar. The world gradually came into focus around him and he cursed the sensation of waking up _twice_ every day.

"Her fault." Norm pointed at Trudy's avatar, slowly rising from the hammock next to him. Trudy laughed at that comment, twisting her body around in pseudo-seductive poses for a moment before realizing Jake wasn't laughing.

"Not funny. While you two were having fun, we were doing work. You're learning the bow today, and you better pick up some of it." Jake demanded before his expression softened a little.

"Before that, Jake, we need to talk for a minute. It's important." Norm replied sternly. The radio malfunction the night before had disturbed him greatly. He couldn't confirm it was a malfunction with any degree of certainty, but logic suggest it had to be. _Or maybe that's wishful thinking,_ Norm thought darkly. Someone had done the deed, and Norm was certain it wasn't the people from the battleship _Montana._ Most of them had proven to be very useful, trustworthy people over the last four years, and they seemed genuinely interested in the Na'vi training, if a little put off by the whole situation.

"More important than learning how to survive here?" Jake asked sarcastically.

"Maybe, yeah." Norm answered, his eyes meeting the Omaticaya leader without flinching.

"All right. We'll talk. It had better be good..." Jake warned, descending from the branches of Hometree, staying out of earshot of the others. Norm followed slowly, nearly losing his grip a few times. Climbing simply wasn't a thing he had any natural talent for.

"What's going on?" Jake asked simply.

"Satellite malfunction, really weird..." Norm began. "We might have received a tight-band transmission from Earth." The scientist let that sink in for a moment, watching as worry crossed his friend's features.

"Are you sure?" Jake asked, holding his chin in thought.

"No, the satellite _could_ have been malfunctioning badly enough that it picked up another signal and reported it as such. Then again, it might not have been. I can't be sure either way." Norm answered. It was a problem, certainly. Were there still survivors on Earth? Was it the very people who had done the deed in the first place? Or was there some other explanation? Too many questions burrowed into Norm's mind and his need to know the answers threatened to drive him mad.

"What did the message say?" The ex-marine asked pointedly.

"Not sure. It was definitely in English, but I couldn't make out the individual words. As far as I can tell, it could have been something in the buffers, or something reflected from the surface. I just don't know, Jake, and it's driving me crazy." Norm replied, flustered.

"What's going on?" Another voice interrupted. Captain Larson stood nearby, leaning on the side of Hometree. "Was just going to talk to Jake here, but couldn't help but over hear."

"Right, you just _happened_ to be there." Jake answered, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Well if you heard, what's your take on this? Could there be people left back there?"

"When we bailed from the system, there were still people on Mars Colony, sick with the virus. They were under quarantine, we couldn't take them with us... I don't think any of them could be left now, though. Could there be others? Yeah, there probably are. Someone shot that damn rock at Earth, after all." Larson said darkly, his brow furrowed in contemplation.

"All right. So there might be an enemy out there somewhere. Lets say we bring that ship of yours back into orbit over Pandora, as a contingency." Jake offered. "That's about all we can do anyway, be prepared. On that note, both of you get your asses back in line." Despite his words, his gaze bore the hallmarks of one buried in deep thought. The question of who had pulled the trigger on old Terra was one that weighed heavily on everyone. Some questions, perhaps, were better left unanswered.

* * *

Determination lay plain on their faces, a need to see this thing through to the end shining through a lingering exhaustion. Pride coursed through him, invigorating and powerful, pushing him onward. Ryan Larson hadn't felt this alive since long before the Fall of Terra. There was something pure and innocent about the Na'vi way of life, it was alluring, almost addicting in its elegant simplicity. He never would have listed crossing the universe and becoming a primitive as first on his list of things he wanted to do with his life, but when you got right down to it, it was fulfilling in a way he never thought possible.

"Each one of you will be assigned a hunter who speaks English. You will be trained individually on the bow. You will not master it in a day. You may not master in many months. But you _will_ master it, you will not fail. Each day you fail to hit the target, each one of you owes me 30 pushups. And I intend to collect." Jake's booming voice echoed across the clearing, the line of Omaticaya hunters stretched out behind him, each had a predatory expression on their faces. Some smiled almost cruelly, obviously enjoying the discomfort of the Sky People. Larson gave them no such pleasure, eyes focusing on the line of hunters with confidence, wondering which would be assigned to him.

Jake walked down the two lines, tapping the hunters shoulders, pointing to each dreamwalker in turn. One by one the line dwindled until, at last, Larson stood face to face with his teacher. She was rather thin, covered in wiry muscle, well-toned even by Na'vi standards. Her long bow stretched nearly to the ground, covered in ornamentation, it was truly an imposing sight. Yet it was her face that really drew his attention, her large yellow eyes glistened with annoyance, perhaps even a touch of disbelief. Obviously, she didn't think much of his chances to learn anything. _Well,_ he thought, _no one else thinks we'll pull this off either, so what the hell?_ Larson put his hand forward in the human greeting and the huntress gripped it strongly in Sky People fashion. Obviously the Na'vi had learned a little of human customs over the years.

"I'm Ryan Larson, Captain of the Montana. Nice to meet you." He managed, pleasantly.

"I am called Mo'rel. You will follow me now." She said coldly, releasing his hand and turning towards the forest. The skipper found himself following her departing ass with rapt interest. Aside from the tail, something he still hadn't gotten used to, she was rather attractive from this angle. At least, as attractive as one could be considering she was of a different _species. _It had been an _awful _long time since he had any real amusement and maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to catch some tail out here in the bush. No one else would be the wiser. _And damnit, I'm a fucking man, I've got needs, _he thought grimly, pushing his way along the trail.

"Watch where you go, dreamwalker." Mo'rel chastised, apparently fully aware of what he was staring at. "You want to be eaten? You are not hunting my tail."

_That's what you think,_ he thought, smiling with anticipation. Before the orbital battle that lamed him, he had once been rather good with the women. He wasn't sure if that experience would translate well over to these Na'vi babes, but it certainly couldn't hurt his chances any. Of course casual sex was a vice almost as bad as his affinity for rum, but what of it? Life was meant to be enjoyed and he certainly wasn't going to spend _all_ of his time on this ball of dirt shooting arrows and riding horses.

After several minutes of hiking, they finally reached a stand of practice targets. Others were already bringing up their bows, but no one was anywhere close to even being able to launch an arrow straight, much less hit the target. Larson had never used a bow before, but his father had been an avid sportsman, back in the day when there was still game to be found on Earth. One thing he knew for certain, bow hunting wasn't something you just picked up in a day. It was a skill that took months, even years, to truly master. _Well_, he thought, _better get started._

"So, uh... what do I do?" Larson asked curiously.

"First, you must stand right." Mo'rel demonstrated, standing with her legs apart by about a shoulder width. "This you will feel more when you learn. For now you stand like this."

Larson complied, visualizing the distance to the target, calculating the affects of gravity, of the wind. Those were concepts he understood well enough from his own training. The skipper nocked an arrow, drawing the string back with immense effort. Mo'rel frowned even as he loosed the arrow, shooting it so far to the left it flew into the woods and buried itself in a tree trunk. _I hit something, that counts, right?_

"You are not good." Mo'rel observed. "You do not hold bow right. Like this..." The huntress nocked an arrow and let loose with expert precision, the arrow burying itself in the center of the target with ease. The entire motion was a blur to him yet he felt admiration pouring through him for her obvious skill. Of course, that cat-like poise of hers, with those gyrating hips, was something to admire too.

"Okay. I'll try again." Larson answered, reaching for another arrow. This one, too, flew far off course, but it had a little more speed and it was at least a little closer to the target. Mo'rel was unimpressed, laughing boisterously with amusement.

"Neytiri is right, dreamwalkers are _skxawng_." That, at least, was one Na'vi word Larson was familiar with. It may have been an insult, but it was also an opportunity.

"I'm not a _skxawng._ I know my Sky People weapons well. I will learn this weapon too, with time. Now, you were showing me how to stand properly..." Larson spoke confidently, staring into her eyes, daring her to challenge him. Confidence worked on human women, of course, maybe it would work here. _Damnit, all I want is a little fun for one night, is that too much to ask for?_ Apparently it was, for Mo'rel just huffed in reply, but there was a twinkling of respect in her eyes.

* * *

Warmth flooded his awareness, an instinctual reaction to the sight of his family together again. With the recruits out learning to use a bow, Jake had been able to take most of the day off. Judging by the expression on his mate's face, it was well deserved and very much needed. Their daughter smiled at him, the infectious grin spreading to his own face and Neytiri's in turn. Raising a child was a considerable amount of work, yet the payoff was undeniable.

"Sempu!" Grace's voice squeaked. Na'vi children matured somewhat faster than human children, yet she was still so tiny, so fragile. That instinctual need to protect her burned in his mind even as he embraced her. Her name echoed that of the fallen scientist, it was a thing Dr. Augustine would have wanted. Somehow the old crotchety scientist had always possessed a certain weakness for children, a love for them that transcended any obligations to RDA. He and his mate could think of no better name for their firstborn daughter. Soon, they would be joined by another, judging by the almost imperceptible bump growing in size on Neytiri's frame.

"She missed you." Neytiri observed, smiling affectionately.

"Yes. Too much to do." Jake answered wistfully. The responsibilities of running a tribe and a training program simultaneously drained on him. There simply hadn't been enough time as he would have liked to devote to his daughter.

"Nor-men gave me _ikran._" Grace stated happily, showing off the toy carved from wood fragments. She flew it around with amusement, pretending as if she were riding her _ikran_ across the heavens. Jake's eyes lingered on her hands, possessing the five digits that were the marker of her human heritage. If the newcomers were to fully integrate into the Na'vi world, there would likely be many more with such traits. Some of the Avatar drivers that had been left behind on RDA's departure had long since merged with their bodies. Some of them had already taken mates, but Grace was the first to be born to such a pairing. At least it was proof that procreation was possible, Max had expressed some concerns on that count, and it was well that things had turned out so well in the end.

"He did? Well, you must watch out for the mighty Toruk!" Jake stated, standing over Grace with arms outstretched, as if he were the great beast himself. She laughed and ran around the tree, hiding the toy nearby. Soon the other children were surrounding her, playing some kind of game that looked suspiciously like the human game of tag. Jake returned to their private alcove to see his mate waiting for him, a predator who had laid her ambush upon him.

"My Jake..." Neytiri began, reaching for him, planting a light kiss on his lips, distracting him. Her gaze spoke volumes about what she desired. This, too, was a thing he simply hadn't found the time for lately. Yet there was plenty of time today. As Grace scurried off to play with the other children, Jake embraced his lifemate, kissing her with repressed need, binding together, feeling her thoughts within his own mind. Life with her never ceased to amaze him with each passing day, it was a dream, _his_ dream. It was a thing he never wanted to wake up from.

* * *

Pandora's satellite network was old, yet even when new, no one had thought to equip the network with a long-range space telescope. Astronomy hadn't been high on RDA's priority list, which was probably a little odd for a company dependent on interstellar travel for its sustenance. Had one existed, however, and if it had been pointed towards the Solar System at precisely the right moment, someone might have seen the brief flare of anti-matter drives lighting up, igniting a great plasma trail in the manner of a massive comet flying through space. As it stood, no such telescope existed and even if it had, the light would have taken over four years to reach human eyes on Pandora. And so the armada glided silently through the emptiness of the interstellar void, their prey unaware of their approach. The journey would be long and arduous, but the destination had already been set, there was no turning back.


	8. Shot To The Heart

_Author's Note: This chapter is a bit of lighthearted fun, enjoy accordingly. Even though this tale is rather dark in concept, even a story such as this needs its fun moments._

**Chapter 8 – Shot To The Heart**

**2 Weeks Later**

Jake frowned. Though the pace of the training had picked up considerably, there was obvious trouble brewing in the air. Perhaps it was simply the result of assigning individual hunters to train each recruit on the bow and in the methods of hunting. Yet it certainly sped up the process, to have an individual tutor, to be able to actually engage in a hunt instead of simply practicing on targets all day. The ex-marine still had his daily sessions with the recruits, motivating them along, enforcing a certain respect for the dangers of this place, but the bulk of the work was being done by the hunters now.

Of course, Jake didn't miss the glances a few of the recruits held for their instructors. Most were still rather reserved about living among the Na'vi, and hadn't truly considered the implications of, essentially, swapping bodies. Yet a few had obviously considered it _too_ carefully, already seeking the attentions of some among the Omaticaya. Surprisingly, the Captain was probably the worst offender of the lot, though in retrospect Jake supposed it shouldn't have been a shock. The man was obsessed with rum, after all, it would figure women would be high up on the list too.

"Line-up!" Jake ordered, watching as the recruits fell into formation quickly and efficiently. They were improving, the combination of military discipline and the Na'vi connection to the forest already molding them into effective hunters. It would be many months before they reached the end of their journey, some might even take the entire year, but most would make it. Jake was certain of that much now. It was the reaction of the Omaticaya themselves which assured him of this, their jokes and laughter had thinned out over the last few days and they had begun to take the recruits seriously. It was a start, at least.

"You're going to learn to fall. Yes, you heard me right. You're going to climb to the top of the tree cover and jump." Jake stated sternly, waiting for anyone to flinch, to give up an ounce of fear. Sure enough, there it was, someone in this bunch was afraid of heights. That would have to be defeated if the man was ever to tame his own _ikran._

"You, there, what's your name?" Jake asked. He already knew it, of course, but the forms had to obeyed.

"Nathan Willis, Sir!" The man stated promptly. That was good, at least, the man knew his fears and was willing to obey orders.

"Afraid of a little jump?" Jake inquired.

"No sir!"

"I think you're full of shit. And you're gonna go first." Jake stood, waiting for any kind of reaction, but the man wisely kept his mouth shut. As the man began to climb the tree, Jake followed, watching the man's climbing technique, searching for any potential weakness. Pandora had a way of devouring the weak and fearful, such a thing would have to be conquered. Below, the others began to follow up the massive tree trunk without hesitation.

Jake demonstrated for everyone, gliding gently to the forest floor, catching each massive leaf with expert control over his body, honed from many years of such controlled falls. Behind him, one-by-one, the failures began. Nathan was the first to jump, overcoming his fear only when taunted by the others, leaping off with hesitation, yet he managed to catch two of the leaves, rolling hard onto the ground, drawing blood and scraping him rather badly. Yet the man stood proudly, displaying the look of one who had seen into his fears and beaten them. It was progress, of a sort.

The next jumper was a complete disaster, missing every leaf and crashing spectacularly into branches, not even rolling on impact. The man tried to pull himself to his feet, but slumped over finally, unconscious and probably waking up with a huge headache in the link center. At least the body was relatively intact, but it was definitely a colossal failure.

"This is an example of what _not_ to do." Jake boomed out. "You must control your fall, use your speed and direction to reach things that slow you down."

It was the Captain who displayed the most proficiency at this task, though that was hardly surprising given the man's atmosphere and space training. Jake would have been severely disappointed if the man had failed even half as badly as the first two. The skipper missed the first leaf, but managed to latch on to the other two with surprising skill, slowing his speed enough to hit the ground and roll to his feet.

"Yee-haw," Larson exclaimed as he fell from the tree. Finally he was doing something he _was_ good at. Skydiving and EVA had been a huge part of his own training to command a starship, and he had learned well how to control himself in the air, how to maintain a solid grip and slow his descent. This avatar body made it interesting and new, but still familiar enough to adapt. Some of the other crewmen also had a decent amount of training in this, and most fared rather well in the controlled fall. There were exceptions, of course, mostly among the ex-RDA people like Nathan Willis, who had been shot into space more or less against their will. Still, they were certainly not the rule.

Larson landed solidly, rolling onto his feet with practiced ease, brushing himself off and staring into the face of Mo'rel. "Piece of cake." He boasted.

"I do not know this word, cake." Mo'rel replied without any hint of emotion. _Real cold fish, this one, _he thought wryly. But those were always the best ones in the sack. The cold, strong women knew how to please, it was a thing he had experienced in more than one port of call. Besides, such girls always had interesting stories to tell, there was much more personality to them than the typical bimbos of most Terran spaceports. Larson could appreciate such things, even if he didn't want to cement any kind of long-term relationship. That was, of course, far too permanent for his taste.

"The phrase means easy. Simple." Larson explained.

"You have done this before?" Mo'rel inquired. "You did well at this task."

"Yeah. Part of my training to become a.. uh.. Sky Warrior." Certainly trying to explain duty aboard a spaceship to the Na'vi was rather difficult.

"If you learn bow as well as this, you will be a strong warrior." Mo'rel answered. It was the first compliment he had ever heard from her lips. "You are still _skxwang._" Yet she smiled as she turned away, and Larson knew he had made progress. Seducing these Na'vi women was a lot more difficult than he expected, but it was nice to know they _could_ be impressed.

"Oh, I _am, _eh?" The captain mocked. "And how does one become as wise as you, huh?"

"You must learn to _see._" Came the simple, if cryptic, reply.

"I _see_ plenty I like already." Larson immediately wanted to retract the statement, but fortunately bad pickup lines hadn't spread to Pandora just yet. Mo'rel just laughed at the statement and posed for him, obviously highly amused.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jake asked suddenly, waltzing into the conversation.

"Nothing, just trying to explain where I learned how to do this sort of thing." Larson protested innocently, holding his hands in the air.

"Right." Jake answered sarcastically. Mo'rel sauntered away from them distractedly, her hips moving enticingly with each step, her tail flicking back and forth, drawing Larson's gaze like a hypnotist's watch. Somewhere behind him, Jake's eyes rolled in supreme annoyance.

"You better be careful." Jake warned icily. "Things work different out here, remember Norm's lessons? If you start some kind of shit, you're on your own."

* * *

Norman Spellman lived for this, riding cheerfully along the _pa'li'_s back, feeling the ground through her hooves, the air around them with each breath. It was a sensation he had experienced before, so long ago, riding into battle against the RDA ground troops. Memories stirred of that terrible pain, that great loss to no longer see, hear and feel Pandora as it should be. Yet that was over now, soon he would never had think about such things again. The excitement traveled up his spine like electric current, echoing through the bond with his horse.

Soon he would master this bow hunting thing. He had poured his heart and soul into the task, following every instruction Neytiri had given him without question or hesitation. Such joy as he felt riding on the ground could only be increased immeasurably on the day he tamed his own _ikran._ Even Trudy felt the excitement at that thought, though Norm understood the reasons for it. To fly in the way they rode together now, that would be the ultimate experience for one as addicted to flight as Trudy. Beside him, the pilot had trouble keeping up, lacking his experience with the direhorses, but she managed somehow.

"Slow down, Norm. Jesus." She yelled above the wind.

"Come on, isn't this fun?"

"Not so much fun if I'm stuck in the mud." She pointed out, barely holding on as her _pa'li_ leaped over a small ditch. Norm slowed down finally, letting her relax a little. "It is fun though." She finally agreed.

"Can you imagine flying like this? Feeling the wings as if they were your own?" Norm asked, trotting over to her.

"Yeah. It'll be something. Guess you were right about all of this switch bodies stuff." She admitted.

"Not so bad, right?"

"Yeah, not so bad." She teased, her direhorse gaining speed once again, slinging mud everywhere, gobs of it hitting Norm's body everywhere. For the first time in years, thoughts of old Earth were nowhere to be found in his mind, retreating from his thoughts in the face of a real satisfaction. Wiping mud from his legs, he urged the direhorse forward, catching up quickly. Briefly, Norm wondered how their relationship would change once the swap became permanent, what it would be like to be with her in the manner the Na'vi experienced.

* * *

Darkness fell across Pandora, only the iridescence of the forest and the light reflected off of Polyphemus, the great giant in the sky. Neytiri loved such moments, they reminded her of the night she and Jake had first bonded together, when she had felt the intensity of his feelings for her. Maybe it had been the thing she had been waiting for, the reason she kept putting off her betrothal to Tsu'tey. Certainly the fallen warrior had been a great man and would have made a fine mate, but he never _felt_ for her in the manner Jake did. Her selfishness had nearly cost the Omaticaya everything, and yet all had turned out to be Eywa's will after all.

That was the paradox of Eywa, her unique mystery. Somehow she knew how things would come to pass, how events must play out. Neytiri could not comprehend how or why, but it was not her place to do so. She was Tsahik, and she was to only interpret, only _see _what was meant to be seen.

Grace lay bundled in her arms, dozing off gently in the comforting breeze, as the hammock rocked ever so slightly. This, too, had been a miracle of Eywa's design. The human Max had said children would not be likely, that dreamwalkers even transferred could not successfully produce children. The science behind such things was as much a mystery to her as the designs of Eywa, but Max was universally regarded as wise among the Sky People. Upon seeing Grace for the first time, he had been shocked, the expression plain on his face even through the mask. Neytiri had not doubted, however. Perhaps Eywa changed the dreamwalkers when they transferred, or perhaps Max had been wrong for once. Either way, her daughter was a blessing, a sign of her love for Jake and his love for her.

Jake was still out there, teaching the dreamwalkers to understand the whims of the nighttime forest. It was a lesson all young hunters had to learn eventually, for many of the most fearsome predators preferred the comfort of darkness.

"_Sa'nok_, where is s_empu_?" Grace asked tiredly, her voice almost a whisper.

"Your father trains the Sky People, that they might become like the People." Neytiri answered.

"Do they really come from the sky?" She asked innocently, pointing towards the stars.

"Yes. From very far away." Neytiri whispered. Grace contemplated this for a moment, staring at her own hands, counting the fingers and comparing them to her mother.

"Am I from the Sky too?" She asked innocently.

"Your father is. Some of the Sky People is within you too." Neytiri answered.

"I want to see them someday. I want to see the stars." Grace yawned, curling up tightly with her mother.

"Sleep, my _'ite_." She cooed gently. "The stars will be there when you wake."

* * *

The trail had gone crazy again, tracks leading off in every direction through the forest, giving no sign as to where the _yerik_ herd had actually gone. Certainly this hunt was not going well, already Ryan Larson had wasted several hours trying to find the beasts. His legs grew tired as the air become thick with heat and humidity, stifling his lungs. To top it off, a foul odor invaded his nostrils, some lingering stench hovering over this jungle like a deadly fog. Behind him, Mo'rel chuckled to herself, amused with the dreamwalker's inability to sense the obvious.

"When tracks do not tell, you must use your nose." She pointed out. "_Yerik_ do not smell good on the wind."

"Okay. So what do I do, sniff the ground like a dog?" Ryan answered angrily, frustration creeping into his voice.

"What is a dog?" Mo'rel asked, her large, yellow eyes full of curiosity.

"Earth animal. Kind of like your.. uh... _nantang._" He replied. "So, uh... Like this?" He leaned towards the ground, trying to pick up scents from the tracks. Certainly, Na'vi bodies had a far stronger sense of smell than any human possessed. None of these hunters need hound dogs, but it was still demeaning to stick your nose half an inch from where an animal had recently stepped. His thoughts were interrupted by ferocious laughter that boomed out from his instructor.

"You are like _nantang-skxwang_!" She continued to laugh, nearly choking with the intensity of it. "Nose sniffing the ground."

"What the hell am I supposed to do then?" Ryan was exasperated, his hands flying up in protest as the huntress finally brought her laughter under control.

"You do not smell that?" Mo'rel's head cocked in curious amusement, gesturing to the forest around them. Somewhere deep within him, the light bulb flickered for a moment and finally clicked on into intensely bright light. _Yerik herds stink, _he realized, _that's what I've been smelling the whole time._ Why the huntress didn't just tell him that up front, Ryan didn't know. The only theory he could pull out of the recesses of his mind was that this warrior chick wanted him to flounder about like an idiot so she could amuse herself at his expense.

"You didn't tell me. You're enjoying this, aren't you, watching me scamper about like a moron?" He leveled an accusing finger towards her.

"These things you must learn yourself. If you do not, you do not remember. Then you become prey." Mo'rel pointed out. _Learn by example, or by making an idiot out of yourself,_ he thought acidly, _so that's the Na'vi way._ Norm had lectured on and on about how honest the Na'vi were, how they barely understood lying as a concept. Apparently that didn't include actively withholding information. Ryan's estimate of Mo'rel's deviousness went up several notches. Oddly enough that made her _more _attractive to him, not less.

"Okay, let's get some grub." He stood confidently, even as Mo'rel tried not to laugh. If _yerik _herds stunk this badly, then they couldn't be _that_ hard to track, once you were near enough. Several minutes worth of hiking finally brought him to the source of stench, and he crept quietly along the trees, avoiding branches and leaves as he had been taught.

It had only been a two weeks since he first picked up a bow, and he was under no illusions about his level of skill, but perhaps he could hit a _stationary_ target. Selecting a _yerik _which was too busy eating leaves to bother with moving about, Ryan pulled back the bowstring. Tension grew, creating a bit of stress noise that made his heart race. There was little wind and the target was so near he could hear the noise of its teeth grating together. _I can do this,_he willed silently, letting the arrow fly forth.

The arrow wasn't even close, flinging off into the woods on some almost random trajectory. Alerted, the herd scattered immediately, fleeing as one to the safety of thicker tree growths. Even the lizards fanned out and vanished in short order, leaving the clearing devoid of any kind of life or anything remotely edible.

"_Nantang_-_skxwang." _Mo'rel hissed from behind him.

"Okay, I'm tired of this moron crap of yours. I was _this_ close." Ryan offered, demonstrating with his fingers.

"No, you were far away, like _ikran _running from _toruk_. Your arrow was scared." She teased, smiling. "You did better this time. You did not make noise."

"Doesn't matter if you can't hit the broad side of a barn." He complained, wiping the dirt and grime from his brow. "Next time," the man offered. Mo'rel regarded him for a moment, her eyes blinking as she stared, deep in some kind of contemplation.

"You are a warrior. You will learn." She offered after a few moments of awkward silence.

* * *

**2 Months Later**

Like something out of a dream, she ascended the vines and rocks of the floating mountains, seeing the place for the first time in her avatar body. Even after the final battle with the RDA troops, she hesitated to return her, to the place where she had almost died. Even now, in this body, she felt the phantom pain of her Samson plummeting, out of control, for the jungle below. Fire had been everywhere, alarms blaring over the screeching remnants of the destroyed rotor. Somehow she had found her mask, somehow she had crawled from the burning wreckage stuck firmly in the treetops.

And now, somehow, she was here to fly again. Only this time the cold metal of an Samson airframe wouldn't be greeting her. Instead, she was to fly as the Na'vi did, she was to choose her own personal banshee to shuttle her all over this rock. And if Norm's descriptions were even close to reality, she would feel as if she were the creature itself, soaring into the clouds.

Well, poetic description had never been her strong suit. Like the battle from years before, she was here to risk her life in the pursuit of some crazy-ass stunt hatched up by the natives. Well, there were worse ways to go, she supposed, than trying to fly something.

"So I do the bond thing after I wrestle it to the ground?" She confirmed as they reached the rock outcropping near the banshee nest.

Jake nodded. "Yeah. Be careful, my _ikran_ nearly sent me on an unscheduled flight in the process."

"Good luck. Don't get that body killed, I'm rather fond of it." Norm offered, trying not to appear too worried. _Yeah,_ she thought, _he's definitely fond of it._ That had been a new experience for them both, and it first it had seemed unnatural and alien, yet she had grown to _need _it. Perhaps it was some biological thing with these bodies, some driving instinct to share your thoughts and feelings with another. But that was Max's department, not hers. It was good enough for her, simply, that she loved it.

"No worries. I got this." Trudy replied confidently. Norm was trying to look happy for her, but she knew him too well. Inside, the scientist was restraining jealousy and torn with concern for her safety. His training had certainly been going well, but he was not ready for this just yet. She loved him for his mind, but sometimes his body just had to catch up a little. Still, he would be ready soon, hopefully this would motivate him just a little more.

"Your _ikran... _will try to kill you. Remember." Neytiri called after Trudy as she approached the nest. Well, everything on this rock wanted to kill her, so that was just fine.

Many of the beasts eyed her with suspicion, gnashing teeth and screeching calls were everywhere as the banshees backed off warily. Some decided safety in the air was preferable to dealing with the unwelcome invader, but others merely backed off slowly, eying her like a piece of meat. None of them were hers, though, and she knew this instinctively.

Seconds passed, but it felt much longer, as she searched for the beast that would stand up to her, that she would bond with. Trudy's heart skipped a beat as she made eye contact with fearsome banshee that seemed to possess no fear. The creature wasn't particularly remarkable in size or coloring, but it definitely wanted her blood. Rather than waste any time, she leaped for the beast, jumping onto its back as teeth snapped everywhere. Its head slammed into her midsection, knocking the breath from her lungs and almost sending her into unconsciousness and back into the link chamber.

Her rope flew away wildly as the creature thrashed with intense effort, trying to buck her off. Its jaws snapped so close to her hand she felt the air pass over her skin, but this was no time to ponder such things. She had only moments before those teeth would make her avatar some kind of late breakfast. Trudy reached for the queue with expert reflexes, bonding them together immediately.

The thrashing stopped as Trudy felt the banshee, felt _her _wings and heartbeat as if they were one. The pilot knew what had to be done, she felt it as if it were an overwhelming need. This banshee wanted to fly, wanted to seal the connection they both felt now. Trudy had proven herself worthy of the beast's loyalty, of its love.

"Fly." She stated simply, imagining herself soaring gracefully over the clouds, no longer bound by the glass and metal of a cockpit. Behind her, cheers erupted from the assembled group, Norm yelled with them, obviously relieved that she had survived the ordeal. But there wasn't time for that just now. As she flew between the floating mountains, feeling the air in her face, she finally knew Pandora not as simply the planet upon which she lived, but as a true home.

This was where she belonged.

* * *

Mo'rel's mind was in turmoil as she gazed upon his successful kill, the yerik bleating only once before Ryan's knife had ended the creature's suffering. As he spoke the words with sincerity, she felt her heart beat louder in her chest. Like before, the warrior's aim had been lacking something, but this time he managed to nock another arrow in time and bring down a smaller animal. For another, this might have been a disappointment, but her heart surged with pride. The first of the "Montana" dreamwalkers had managed to end a hunt with success, and it was _her_ student who had done the deed.

Whatever else had happened, Ryan wasn't ready for the Trial just yet, there was much more to learn, but he had proven himself capable of doing so in time. She helped him with the carcass, teaching him the best methods to bring the kill home so that it might nourish the bellies of the People.

"You did well." Her voice was full of pride, and Ryan smiled in turn. For once, she didn't mind his gaze upon her.

He may have been of the Sky People, but he was still a warrior, and a blooded one at that, now. He had a certain strength about him, even if he was so foolish sometimes. That foolhardy behavior, however, wasn't simply limited to him. It seemed most Sky People possessed that particular affliction, and at least he displayed _less_ of that sort of thing than many of the others. None could compare to Jake's level of adaptation to the Na'vi ways, of course, but Jake was a legend, _Toruk Makto_, the chosen of Eywa. There was no competing with something like that.

"So what's next?" He inquired, watching her carefully, as if studying her. The way he always stared at her made her rather uncomfortable before, but she had grown used to it with time. Maybe that's how all Sky People acted, though somehow she doubted it.

"The hide must be stripped and the meat cut. There is much work to be done." She answered.

"Man, you guys never do anything the easy way, do you?" He laughed, tugging at the yerik's body.

"It is Eywa's way."

"Eywa enjoys making my back hurt then, I take it." For a moment, Mo'rel frowned, until she realized he was playing with her. When had that happened? When had he become the one who made her look like the fool? She shook her head a moment, clearing her mind. There were more important things to consider than this dreamwalker's sense of amusement.

"Come, we go." She ordered with a huff of displeasure.

"After you, my dear." He offered jokingly, paving the way for her to go forward with exaggerated gestures.

"So, not so bad for a _tawtute, _eh?" Ryan stood with pride as Neytiri inspected the kill he had brought home. Her eyes missed nothing, noting the failure to penetrate the heart area with the first blow, the overall small size of the _yerik_ and his teacher's pride mixed with profound amusement.

"Good for a first kill, or a child's kill." The Tsahik quipped.

"Oh come on, I get some credit for that." Ryan protested, leaning on Hometree's flank, staring longingly at the firelight and the meal being cooked by the other hunters. Delicious, yet foreign, scents wafted into his nose, filling his belly with hunger.

"You may join the others." Neytiri pronounced, finally. It was a tradition that the hunters often combined their kills, sharing the meat of different animals, so that they all might enjoy different flavors. Yet only a proven hunter was entitled to such a sharing, a notion not lost on Mo'rel, who sat back trying to resist a triumphant smile. Ryan stood proud with accomplishment, enjoying himself as he marched into the gathering as if it were the bridge of the _Montana_, the other Na'vi watching him with curious amusement.

Meat was distributed across the gathering even as he stripped flesh from his kill, adding his own meager contribution. Others placed the meat on poles, placing it delicately over the fire to char. Many of the Na'vi eyed him with suspicion, yet they made room for him, passing food and drink. Mo'rel took her seat next to him, munching on the cooked flesh of a tetrapteron, one of the smaller flying creatures on Pandora. Maybe it was a primal instinct, but he couldn't resist the intense flavors wafting into his nose. He reached for what looked rather like a drumstick, digging in with relish, forgetting his manners for a moment.

"You are very hungry?" The question was rhetorical, Mo'rel smiled at him with something like friendship. _But the question is, are we talking friends with benefits or just the damn friend-zone?_ He asked himself. For a moment he just seemed to stare before his brain thought up a proper response.

"Uh, yeah. Never got to pick what I wanted here before. It was just whatever the hell you guys wanted to throw my way." He complained. Yet beggars couldn't be choosy, it was a philosophy the Na'vi adhered to strongly, where all would eat, but only those who contributed got to choose. Certainly laziness had no place on such a world, but it didn't seem to be a problem with them anyway. Almost everyone hunted at least on occasion, except for the very young and the very old.

"You are a hunter now. You eat well." She stated, handing him another of the drumsticks. A jug of something interesting passed by and he stopped the errant drink on its way by him. It wasn't rum, it probably wasn't even alcohol, but from the way these people were treating it, the drink looked promising.

"Here, you drink lots!" One of the hunters smiled oddly, handing over the jug with relish. _Well, booze is booze, on any planet,_ he thought, taking a long pull. In the end it didn't matter what he was drinking, as long as it put an end to his sobriety. Somewhere among the crowd, he thought he heard a chuckle.

"Do not drink too fast!" Mo'rel protested, but Ryan ignored her for the moment, letting the warm liquid bring color to his cheeks. Soon, however, it became apparent that the drink was a lot more potent than alcohol on humans.

"Crap." The iridescent colors of the forest began to leap out at him, through the fire-light, shifting shapes jumping at him from everywhere. It was as if the whole forest suddenly became alive and the fire had become some kind of living demon. His heart pounded in his chest, his breath became rapid and shallow even as a stomach ache began to set in. "Uh... I need a second." He left the gathering and leaned up against Hometree, trying to get his bearings even as a few chuckles sounded out behind him.

Mo'rel was there, holding his shoulders. "Breath slow, like this. It will pass." She stated simply, drawing in deep breaths. It took several moments for his heart rate to slow, his perceptions to return to something resembling reality. As the world around him returned to focus, he saw her beautiful face before him, her eyes staring into his with worry and with undeniable attraction. He leaned forward, caught in the moment.

"I am like _ikran!_" A child's voice screamed. Grace was running around the edge of the campfire, holding her toy as a furious Neytiri tried to chase her daughter down. _Fucking kids, _Ryan cursed to himself as Mo'rel pulled away awkwardly.


	9. The Devil You Know

**Chapter 9 – The Devil You Know**

Artificial light bathed the flag bridge of the battleship _Kongo, _sterile LED arrays casting an unnatural white glare upon the command deck. Engine vibrations traveled along the hull, from the massive towing anti-matter engine, far larger than the warship herself, gradually building up velocity at the comfortable acceleration of .25g. Even that speed, the ship's command deck and habitation module had to be rotated into line with the acceleration, allowing for artificial gravity. Data readouts flickered on the monitors, scrolling as nearly unreadable speed, endless figures on hull stresses, tow cable integrity and minor course corrections. For Parker Selfridge, this was the only home he had left.

Self-styled Admiral Ellen Matheson contemplated the sensor readouts of her makeshift armada, comprised of the very best Belt Command had to offer. Soon the fleet would pass the Oort cloud, leaving the solar system behind forever, their course unwavering. Beside her, Parker sat silently, his eyes haunted by guilt, plagued by the poor decisions that had brought him to this end.

Five other great starships lay in loose formation, each building their own acceleration in line with the flagship. A pair of battlecruisers, smaller versions of _Kongo, _were accompanied by three ex-RDA ISVs, loaded with terraforming equipment and plague survivors, potential colonists on a world free of UN influence. Certainly, it was sufficient to bring down the regime of Jake Sully and his native hordes. No spear or arrow could ascend into orbit, no tree could save them from the fires of a nuclear barrage or even the lesser destruction of _Kongo'_s railguns.

"Parker, you'll need to report to your cryo station soon." The Admiral broke the silence which had fallen over the bridge as they exited the bounds of the Solar System.

"No thanks. I'd rather stay up." He replied darkly. Once, Parker had been a powerful man, the administrator of the only extrasolar colony in existence, practically God himself on Pandora. What was left of the man was little more than an empty shell, a hollow remnant of what had once been a real, functioning person.

Parker frowned as he contemplated his return to Pandora, a most unwelcome turn of events indeed. RDA's exile from Pandora had only been the beginning of his troubles. Immediately fired and cast aside on Earth upon his arrival, Parker had somehow made his way to the Belt, fleeing the mobs that blamed him for the failing economy and the low-grade warfare afflicting Terra. Once there, his only employment opportunity had been as a zero-g miner on one of the smaller asteroids in the belt. It was grimy, dangerous work, completely out of character for a former executive, but work was work and at least the miners hadn't wanted to kill him. Most of them were former criminals or political refugees anyway, and there had been a sort of acceptance of checkered pasts among them.

That life had been hard, there were no golf courses in the belt, no fancy desks or men to order around like little ants. Somehow, he knew himself as lucky to even survive a few years out there. The fatality rates hovered somewhere around ten percent and he certainly fell into the lower end of skill spectrum. Still, he had resigned himself to an eventual cold death, a freedom from his nagging conscience. Until this trash had plucked him from his dismal job, things had been going at least as well as could be expected. "Have another chance." They had offered. "We could use your expertise on Pandora, your familiarity with the base and its terrain." They had told him. Of course, that had been _before_ he caught wind of what it was they were truly planning. And so now, once again, he found himself caught in the middle of some genocidal conflict out of personal weakness.

"Why would you want to stay up the whole way?" Ellen asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. That was pretty typical for the woman, plans within plans and all. It was simply how these Belt people thought, everything was like some cosmic poker game with them. They simply assumed that every man had some secret agenda, some hidden cards up his sleeve. Parker had neither, just wanting to postpone the inevitable agony of watching _another_ planet die, more people get slaughtered due to a chain of events he himself had begun.

"So it'll take longer. I'm in no hurry to go back there." Parker admitted, tossing a golf ball into the air. In the low acceleration maneuvers, the gravity was only something like a quarter of Earth norm, and the ball flew almost to the ceiling with the idle toss. He caught it with practiced ease, flipping it around his hand and throwing it upward again out of idle boredom.

"You have doubts?" The accusation was a universally deadly one, if not answered correctly.

"No doubts. Just not in a rush. Pandora's not my top vacation spot." He soothed. The hot-tempered Admiral smiled in return, nodding briefly.

"Understandable. After the terraforming procedures begin, though, it'll get better."

"Yeah. It'll get better." He answered, trying to mask his own self-loathing.

* * *

All around her the nighttime forest glowed, pulsing with life, with the very will of Eywa. Peace came over Mo'rel, descending like a comforting wave over her awareness. Some among the tribe thought it strange that she should walk alone in the forest so often, yet she always felt so much closer to Eywa like this, as powerful as connecting to the Tree of Souls itself. It quieted her mind, allowing her to find the right path in life, to hear the truth of things in the sounds of forest.

Certainly it was obvious that the dreamwalker pursued her, only a fool could miss his advances, the way his eyes tracked her every movement when he thought she could not see. Yet there was something to consider in it, the man was a leader among his people, the _Captain_ of this group. Many more dreamwalkers would come, to form a great clan of their own. She was but an ordinary hunter of the clan, and a bit of a loner at that, she had never expected some Sky People leader to show up and start hunting _her_ of all people.

None among the Omaticaya had ever looked upon her so, none had pursued her so openly, almost without regard for the proper rituals. These dreamwalkers had strange ways of catching mates, acting like foolish _nantang_ on the prowl. Yet it couldn't be denied, it felt _good _to be desired so strongly and for once Mo'rel began to understand why Neytiri had chosen Jake. Ryan's unwavering confidence that he would win her over was infectious in some way, and his determination to master the ways of the Na'vi was unrivaled among the new recruits. Both were traits to be admired, the marks of a seasoned warrior, a fellow hunter.

She grew older with each passing season, and though she was not yet beyond the typical mating age, she approached it with apprehension. Past twenty-five seasons, it was considered odd not to have found a lifemate. None had chosen her yet, none had offered themselves to her. Perhaps it was her strange, solitary habits that pushed them away, or maybe it was simply that a suitable match simply didn't exist among her tribe. Women who reached the end of the traditional bonding age would often leave for another tribe, to seek a mate among the others. It was well that clans intermingled somewhat, Eywa made such things plain to all, but she hadn't really wanted to leave.

"Hey. Wanted to ask some pointers..." In her moment of introspection, she had allowed the dreamwalker to approach her undetected. Annoyance seethed within her, it was not appropriate for him to do this, he did not truly understand the ways of the People yet. Her time as his hunting teacher was over, there was no reason he should be here.

"You learned to hunt. You no longer need me to teach you." Mo'rel tried to push him away, yet she could not deny the closeness she felt for him the night before. These Sky People made everything so difficult, so _wrong_. Though it hurt her, she could not let herself become one with such an alien, no matter what she may have felt. Resolving herself to the right decision, she turned away from him, collecting her thoughts as she made for Hometree.

"I don't mean about hunting... at least, not that kind of hunting. Could I ask you to teach me something else?" His lighthearted jest reached her someplace deep within and she stopped suddenly, her heart beating wildly, the dreamwalker just did not give up. Mo'rel sighed gently as he approached, turmoil roiling within her. For just a moment, the man betrayed himself, the mask of confidence falling away to expose the damaged soul within. It was a thing he might not have even known about himself, yet she saw it plain enough in his eyes as he tracked prey in the forest, in his mannerisms and his need for drink. Somehow he reminded her of a wounded beast, someone who had seen too much death, a warrior with a strong, yet oddly broken soul. She resigned herself to the inevitability of it. Eywa would choose if it was to be, it was the way of things.

Awkward silence hovered in the air for a single breath before the dreamwalker fumbled nervously, suddenly unsure of himself and what to do now that his prey had been caught. Ignoring his discomfort, she pressed her lips against his, closing her eyes and feeling the warmth of his body against hers, allowing herself to fall completely into the moment. Happiness flooded her awareness and she reached for his queue gently, catching the astonishment in his gaze. If he wanted to learn, she would make him _see._

_

* * *

_

Awareness seemed to shift everywhere for a moment, as if dreams were some kind of putty that could be molded into reality. Ryan had yet to get used to this part, to that moment between one body and the next, floating as if part of nothing, as if he were alone in the universe. The previous Avatar drivers had warned him of this disconnect with reality, of the addiction he would feel to his new body as he connected to it more frequently.

They had been right. With such powerful senses, the ability to hear so much more, to connect to the world around him, to catch the scents on the wind, it was easy to see his Avatar as his _true_ body. Yet he had done so much more than that. For him, the clincher was the previous night, that incredible sex, the intense feeling of the queue-connection. _God, where has Pandora been all my life?_ If there was this much fun to be had here, he'd gladly deal with living in trees and hunting for a meal. He laughed as his eyes opened, catching the first rays of morning light.

Mo'rel did not stir as he extricated himself from her grip, obviously exhausted from the previous night's activities. What was that she had said before falling off to sleep? "We are blessed by Eywa." Well, if Eywa's blessing made experiences that much more powerful, maybe the world-spanning deity could bless his booze too.

Somehow the thought rang hollow in his mind and he shook his head, trying to clear his tumultuous thoughts. It was almost as if some other influence was there in the corner of his mind, pointing out the stupidity of wallowing in drink and chasing tail. He hadn't always been this way, there had been a day when he, too, had been infected by honest idealism, by the thought that he could do something truly worthwhile. All of that optimism had vanished with so many deaths, so many men ordered into oblivion under his command. It had been too much for him, to remain as the lamed survivor when so many others had died. Command regret was a thing all senior officers had to live with, but diversions made it a little easier. Drink and sex had been a welcome relief, a way he could forget, if only for a moment, his deep-seated nightmares.

Perhaps it was time things changed, everything around him was like some kind of strange dream, and yet he had never felt more alive. Even in Fleet, Ryan never truly felt like he belonged to anyone or anything, he was just a man cashing in on the only honorable trade he knew. It had taken Earth's destruction to crack that careless exterior, and Pandora's alluring existence to break it down entirely.

Water flowed from the nearby lake and he leaned down to splash his face. The wavering visage that gazed back at him was different somehow, less familiar. Spots had shifted into different patterns, recognizable somehow, and yet so unlike what they had been even a night before. _What the hell?_

"Hey, Larson." Norm was behind him, also an early riser, still training hard for his Trial. The scientist wasn't any better at this primitive lifestyle than he was, yet the man was definitely motivated. His own mate plied the skies without him, and Norm was eager to ascend to the skies with her. Ryan turned to face him, confused and anxious.

"Norm." He acknowledged simply, trying not to betray the anxiety he felt.

"What's going on?" Norm demanded, shock etching its way across his features.

"Eh?" Confusion reigned in the skipper's mind. Something was definitely not right here.

"Who did you mate with? Mo'rel?" There was an edge to the scientist's voice, some kind of warning buried in his words.

"Uh... not that it's your business, but yeah. It's just sex, man. No big deal." The skipper felt the wrongness of his words even as he spoke them. In truth, he had felt rather odd all morning, as if some part of his awareness was screaming for him to get back to Mo'rel. Anxiety crept into his mind like electric current, that sudden gut feeling that the excrement was about to encounter an air circulation device was overwhelming.

"Just sex? You can't be serious. Were you listening to _anything_ I said during your orientation lectures?" Norm's expression was grave. _Well at least now I know I fucked something up_, Ryan thought.

"Uh... Well I might have missed some of it..." Ryan admitted, the anxiety becoming a fearsome, choking feeling. Something was terribly wrong, no one should care this much about his private life.

"Shit. We need to talk to Jake. Now." The scientist wasted no time, nervously jogging off towards nearby Hometree as if on a mission. The skipper followed warily, cursing his stupidity for showing up hungover during Norm's cultural orientation so long ago. If he needed any more proof that his drinking habits had to go, he just received it. _That's it, I'm done with it, cold-goddamned-turkey, _he promised himself.

_Olo'eytkan_ was a role Jake had never desired, yet once appointed to the position, he could do no less than do the job as best he could. In many ways he felt undeserving of the honors heaped upon him by the Omaticaya. Through his indecisiveness, he had nearly allowed them to fall under RDA's boot heel. With inexperience, he had nearly lost that final battle, recovering only with the help and love of Eywa, that world-spanning consciousness that had seen something in him so long ago, something he still didn't see in himself. In his own mind, he was a man who had been supremely lucky, who had defeated his enemies only through brute determination combined with chance. Such things didn't qualify him for leadership of a tribe he hadn't even been born into.

Yet that wasn't true from their perspective. For them, he had been reborn, pure and cleansed of his failures. He was truly one of them, nothing else needed to be discussed on the matter. For that, he was eternally grateful, and it created a need to serve them as well as he was able. Perhaps they were mistaken in trusting him with such great responsibility, but as long as it was in his hands, he would perform his duty in the best way he knew how.

He had failed today. The truth of that hit him within seconds of seeing Norm walk in, concern written all over his face, with Larson trailing behind, nervous and _different._ All Na'vi knew the results of a successful mating bond, the matching of spots, the sharing of ideas. Given enough time, mated pairs often began acting like one another, picking up memories and mannerisms. Jake only needed to glance at the man for a single moment to see the change in his spots, in his expression. In retrospect, he probably should have seen this coming, the man was honest enough, but he had no ability to control himself. How Larson had ever wound up in command of a battleship, Jake could not adequately explain.

"Norm..." Jake began, ignoring Ryan for the moment, trying to control his seething anger.

"I know. He says it was just _casual. _He didn't listen to anything I said in orientation." The scientist replied, washing his hands of the matter.

"Will someone, anyone, please tell me what the hell I did?" Larson asked, exasperated and anxious.

Jake considered that statement for a moment, even as a crowd of Na'vi began congregating around, knowing immediately that something had gone dreadfully wrong. There was a partial solution to the problem, yet it would not be easy and it would probably ruin the chances of the newcomers _ever_ being accepted into Na'vi society. The mating bond was brand new, the death of the avatar body _might_ sever it in such a way that Mo'rel could bond again in time. But such a thing would be painful for her beyond belief and would earn the permanent enmity of tribe towards the avatars even if it worked. The training program would be finished.

"Fine, you want to know? You want to bathe in your pre-pubescent wisdom?" Jake began, unable to help a cruel smile. "There's no casual sex here. You just mated _for life._" Jake let that sink in for a moment, watching as all the blood drained from Larson's face. His expression turned to one of utter horror, suddenly piecing together exactly what he had done. Too late, Jake saw sincere apology in the man's eyes, the sudden need to fix the situation overwhelming the anxiety.

"What can I do, sir? Can it be fixed? Can it be undone?" Larson fell back on a military regimen that he hadn't displayed since those first days after landing. Too late, he regained his composure, forgetting the lighthearted fun he'd allowed himself to get sucked into. Pandora wasn't his personal playground, and he'd do well to remember that. Once, he had started fights with douche-bags who committed lesser offenses, where had that sense of honor gone? Had it simply burned up with the rest of Terra? Another thought was there too, somehow not entirely his own. He could _feel _Mo'rel's pain, her anguish at learning the truth, almost as if it were his own.

"If it's undone, the entire program here is undone with it. And it probably can't be. You just screwed the entire training program and probably your people's survival for a piece of ass." Jake's anger brewed close to the surface, but he didn't relent. "You have two choices, take responsibility for what you just did and live with it, or screw everyone over."

Before Larson could answer, Mo'rel was there, tears dripping down her face even as she glared with disgust at the man who shared her spot patterns. Jake turned his back on the pair even as the Omaticaya drew away, creating an open circle, knowing instinctively what was to take place. Larson stood nervously in the center of the space as the tearful huntress circled him in the manner of a predator, knife held out before her.

"You used me like a joke?" She demanded angrily. "For each time you touched me, you will bleed."

He dodged her first, powerful lunge neatly, reaching for his own weapon and tossing it away, sheath and all. As she turned, a blur of deadly grace, Ryan reached for a tree branch, pushing the knife to the side and barely escaping. A thin trickle of blood extended along his wrist as she slowed her movements, shifting the knife around, trying to predict his movements. A terrible hiss emanated from her throat, but he felt no fear of it. It was the pain her heart that moved him, the terrible agony of rejection was so much worse than he could ever have imagined. Finally, he could _see,_ he understood exactly what she had meant by that. Like always, it was a thing he had learned too late.

The destruction of Earth had wrecked him, convinced him that the only purpose in life was to seek a bit of selfish pleasure in the moment. Aside from survival, he simply didn't have any other purpose. _Montana_ was a ghost ship in orbit, abandoned and alone, he had thought of his ship as the last thing he could really love in the universe. Then this situation had clobbered him over the head, waking him up from long, semi-drunken slumber. _I'm a battleship captain, not some horny drunk, _he thought. It was time to start acting like one again.

His mate snarled fiercely at him, but already the situation had changed, he could feel it. It was strange to think of her as _his_ mate, yet it was oddly pleasant, discounting the fact that she was probably going to kill him. As she lunged at him, he admired her deadly grace, the raw, untamed nature of her fury translated into fluid motion. His forearm took the brunt of the blow, smashing against hers, the knife drawing rivulets on his arm, yet she could have twisted the blade around, pushed it into his chest and been done with him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't _see you_ until now." Ryan spoke up, flicking the blood from his wounded arm. Her head cocked at this, and for a moment, he thought he had reached her. There were murmurs among the gathered crowd, but he didn't pay any attention to them. Nor was the pain worth his time either, his entire focus was on her, as it should be. Maybe he should have thrown himself at her feet, and the desire was undeniably tempting, but he should die standing up. It was fitting for his rank, and though it had been years since he had last worn the uniform, and never on this body, he still felt like it was there, a permanent part of him.

"I _see_ you." He repeated, though the way the words sounded as they came out told him the true nature of his feelings for her. He loved her and just hadn't been aware of the fact. Eywa had blessed the mating, after all, there had to be some reason for it, even if he hadn't been consciously aware of it. For a moment, she hesitated and he thought he saw forgiveness and acceptance in her eyes.

The vicious slash across his chest seemed to indicate otherwise, yet the blow was intentionally shallow, drawing only a thin trickle of blood. Mo'rel dropped the bloodied knife, wavering between anger and confusion, blinking back the tears. She fell into his arms, confused, hurt and angry, yet still undeniably a part of him. He held her gently, wisely choosing to say nothing, caressing her back softly. He kissed her forehead tentatively, trying to tell her without words that he would not abandon her. Mo'rel's thoughts echoed in his own mind, he knew that much time would have to pass before this wound healed completely, but it _would _heal.

As the crowd of Omaticaya warriors dissipated, leaving the mated pair to resolve their differences more peacefully and privately, Jake breathed a sigh of relief. Somehow, disaster had been averted and the tribe could return to sense of normalcy. His eyes met Norm's knowingly, and they exchanged a simple nod. Whatever orientation training had been given to the recruits would definitely have to be expanded upon. A refresher course, of sorts, would be needed and he certainly knew who was taking that course first. There were bound to be cultural conflicts and misunderstandings, but something this blatant was completely unexpected and easily avoidable.

"I hope this is not the way all dreamwalkers will choose a mate." Neytiri observed wryly.

_**Author's Note:** I hope you will forgive the focus on the two original characters in this chapter, but I did develop that bit of conflict and wanted to bring that bit to a sort of semi-conclusion, though it's not fully resolved just yet. I promise we'll have more of Norm & Trudy, the incoming armada with Selfridge aboard and many of the other elements in the chapters to come. As always, send me your thoughts and concerns. Enjoy!_


	10. Lost & Founded

**Chapter 10 – Lost & Founded**

**1 Month Later**

Architecture had never been his forte, Norm was a scientist, a man who _thought_ rather than designed. The distinction seemed lost on many of the survivors and even on some of the old avatar drivers who truly should have known better. That he was, perhaps, the most talented of the xenobiologists didn't really matter here. Such a thing didn't always translate into designing buildings. Yet his mathematical talents and understanding of physics had landed him the job anyway. Now he was stuck with a shift supervising the assembly of the village. Timbers had been salvaged from the avatar barracks and training camp, taken apart for transport to the new site. There were a couple of engineers among the survivors, but none in Avatar form just yet, which limited their usefulness. Construction had to proceed anyway, Hell's Gate simply didn't have the room for a new clan of blue-skins.

Finding a suitable site had been rather easy with the satellite imagery. Convincing the other tribes that the members of the Sky Clan were harmless to them had been far more difficult. Awkey of the plains people had insisted on watching the construction of the new Sky People encampment. His involvement did make a certain kind of sense to Norm, after all the location was on the boundary between the plains and the forest, and it was well that the plains people and the Omaticaya should watch them. Still, the situation made the scientist more than a little nervous.

"These are wood, from the trees?" Awkey asked, taking in the site of the smooth-cut timbers. To him, wood should have been natural, craggy and not conforming to straight angles.

"Yes. We carve them straight, like the arrow flies." Norm explained.

"Many trees must die for this?" The plains leader asked darkly. "You do not use branches?" The question was certainly valid, the leader's people did build huts of sticks and stone on occasion, for there was far less shelter away from the forest, but such buildings used every piece possible.

"It is our way that for each tree that we cut, we plant three more." Norm offered. Technically, it was a practice that had ended on Earth long before he had been born, but it was one he intended to see through here. In any event, salvaging the wood from the Avatar barracks and the training course had provided them with most of what they needed in the near term.

Awkey frowned at the scientist's words, obviously not entirely satisfied, but determined not to press the point just yet. Norm knew they were walking a fine line with the Na'vi tribes, yet thus far compromise had held true. A familiar shadow hovered over him and his eyes took in Trudy's _ikran, _flying by gracefully, the creature's rider as beautiful as her human form. Soon, he too would take the trial, and they would pass through the Eye of Eywa, to become a true part of this world. The first of the survivors would follow suit not long after, the Sky Clan had been founded.

"Your mate, she flies well." Awkey pointed out, watching as the pilot landed her _ikran_ expertly. "She was a rider of your machines?"

"Yes. She was the best flier. Still is, probably." Norm answered distractedly. A crashing sound emanated suddenly from work site, and Norm ran forward hastily. "No, no. Those are the _ceiling _beams. Supports are thicker, you can't use ceiling beams as load bearing supports like that."

As Norm turned around, the plains leader was already riding off towards his home, but the scientist was under no illusions. There would be others watching them, learning their ways, seeing if they were truly worthy of trust and respect. Much remained to be atoned for, so much death did not simply vanish from the minds of the People overnight or even with the passage of many years. It would probably be _generations_ before all debts had been settled, yet the Na'vi were willing to give them this chance and that boded well for the future.

"Hey." Trudy kissed him lightly, the act bringing a smile to his face. Things had changed greatly between them since the training program had begun. Their spots matched as closely as any mated pair, and the depth of the bond had strengthened their relationship greatly. Now that he felt her, shared thoughts and even memories, existing as a couple _without_ such a bond was incomprehensible. The biology of such a thing was of immense interest to him, but the results were of even greater importance. All life on Pandora depended on the connection between all living things, it had taken Doctor Augustine's death to convince Eywa that life from Earth followed a very different paradigm.

Once, Norm had thought the Pandoran way inherently better, simpler and ultimately superior by its very nature. Now he understood it as simply better for him at some deep, personal level. Though humanity had never shared such a deep connection, great things had existed for them too, it was simply that those amazing gifts had been squandered, wasted in petty conflict. Mankind had been given power to travel the stars and had, instead, used that wondrous gift to destroy itself in a fit of childish stupidity.

He had connected with the Tree of Souls, felt the sadness Eywa held for Earth's fall, the pity for humanity's children. Truly, the lifeforce held no ill will for them, wishing only to live in peace. Someday, he knew, humans as a physical species would vanish and no one would remain to remember their origins. Only Eywa would still shed tears for old Terra, seeing the memory of it as if she had been among them when the asteroid fell. To her, humanity was a young species, a race annihilated before it had a chance to truly grow into its own.

"What's eating you?" Trudy asked as his stared off into space.

"Just thinking about what's going to happen, you know, after we're gone." Norm answered. "Will everyone forget Earth eventually?"

"Yeah, we're probably done. Had a good run though, right? Made it all the way out here..." Trudy replied wistfully.

"It just doesn't seem right. I was always jealous of Jake, you know. He had it all when we came here, acceptance with the Omaticaya, an understanding of Pandora I thought I'd never share." Norm explained. "Now that it's my turn, so to speak. I want to go through with it more than anything, but..."

"You don't want to forget." Trudy finished for him.

"Yeah. I want to remember. I want our children to remember."

"Children? You're getting way ahead of yourself, fly-boy." Trudy teased. Norm laughed for a moment, trudging down to the work site, helping to sort the timber frames with the others, stressing the need for a proper load-bearing structure. Slowly, the new, smaller buildings took shape. Eventually these small buildings would serve as the nucleus of the Sky Clan village. More Avatars would finish maturing in the coming months and the clan would grow.

* * *

**1 Week Later**

_Iknimaya,_ they were called, the thundering mountains. It was a name well deserved. Though it happened relatively rarely, the floating mountains would collide from time-to-time, the thundering rapport echoing everywhere, giving testament to the name of the place. Why _ikran_ chose this particular place to nest, Jake would never know, but it was enough, simply, that they had. Perhaps Eywa wanted new hunters to have a difficult time of it, to prove their worth in the Trial. There would be a lot of that going on today, a full ten of the recruits, including Norm and Larson, ascending along the path.

Jake was anxious, much depended on the successful outcome of the Trial, of the final mark of integration with the Na'vi population. He knew they would never live exactly as the People did, but as long as they could _see,_ as long as they understood, things would be well. It hadn't been an easy road to go down, there had been many bumps along the way. Everything from men afraid of heights to one individual who couldn't keep it in his pants had slowed the process. Yet despite these obstacles, they were here. He owed to all of them to give the recruits the best chance of survival possible.

"You might be wondering what advice I have for you now. I really don't have any more to give you now. Each one of you has been trained, has endured hardship and came out alive at the other end. There's only one more trial left for you and I know you won't let me down now. Remember, you must feel your _ikran,_ you must _see_ from within. When you do this, there will be no turning back, you will be one of us." Jake's booming voice echoed from within the cave leading to the nest. None hesitated, each wearing an expression of eagerness touched with excitement.

"Do I have a volunteer to go first?" Jake asked. No one spoke up, and that was good. His lesson about restraint had been, perhaps, the hardest thing he could teach. Now that it had been mastered, however, things were different. "I won't make you run any laps," he chuckled a moment at this. I'm asking who wants to fly right now."

"I do." It was Norm, and that didn't surprise Jake in the least. The scientist had been impatient for his opportunity to fly with his mate and that had actually hampered his training progress somewhat, but he had come around finally. Jake nodded briefly, stepping out of the way, giving the man a firm pat on the back in support.

"You'll do good, Norm." Jake stated with confidence. The scientist's answer came as he slid along the rock face without even a moment of hesitation. _He really wants to fly,_ Jake realized, _and not just for Trudy's sake either._ He hadn't realized just how determined Norm was to see this thing through. Furthermore, the scientist had expressed a desire to become one of the Omaticaya rather than live solely with the new 'Sky Clan' that was forming.

The clan leader watched in amazement as Norm strode fearlessly into the nest, his rope held in perfect form, every movement calculated and practiced. Without that instinctive drive many of the others had, the scientist had to work a lot hard than most to learn the ways of the Na'vi. As Mo'at might have said, his cup had been full. Yet Norm attacked the problem in his own way, learning by rote and sheer persistence, mastering each task with strength of character instead of natural talent.

One of the largest _ikran _Jake had ever seen came to meet Norm, but the scientist didn't even slow down, slinging his rope around the creature's jaws. Like the scientist, it seemed relatively docile, at least as much as a massive flying lizard with claws and sharp teeth could be. As Jake watched the man expertly rope his _ikran, _wrestling the creature to ground with flawless technique, he felt pride growing in his chest. He hadn't failed his friend, Norm was doing so well he almost made it look easy, the scientist remembered _everything_ Jake had taught him. Moments later, the bond had been made and Norm was off, flying through the clouds as if he had always belonged there. Jake's mouth hung agape for a moment, shocked by the ease at which the scientist had tackled the problem.

"Practice makes perfect." Jake mused, still shocked at the ease at which Norm had pulled it off. Trudy had been circling nearby, and she followed her mate through the skies, letting loose a whoop of delight.

"Thought this was supposed to be hard?" A whisper came from one of the men.

"Want to be next?" Jake offered to the man, smiling. For a moment, silence reigned, everyone knew the danger of taking up such offers from him.

"I'll go next." Jake wasn't surprised to see the face behind that statement. Ryan stood forward, ready to man up and demonstrate for the others. Mo'rel stood in the distance, smiling weakly at her mate, concern for him plain on her face. Jake knew that particular relationship was still on thin ice, yet he couldn't deny the positive influence it was having on the battleship captain. Apparently all the skipper needed was one hell of a beating by his mate to turn over a new leaf. There was still hesitation among the old crew of the _Montana,_ the incident had nearly destroyed his leadership role among them, yet somehow he had managed to hold on to his position. Jake supposed the man really had no choice, he _had_ to be the first of his crew to do this thing. The Na'vi philosophy of leading by example had fallen over the recruits, too. Jake knew that there was a great deal of damage to Ryan's reputation that needed mending.

Jake stood aside, letting Ryan pass. The man turned and regarded him curiously for a moment. "Any last-second advice?" He asked.

"Don't get yourself killed." Jake offered.

"Okay, very helpful, thanks." Ryan answered dryly, clutching the rope rightly.

"Anytime." Jake replied, amused.

"You must _see_ your _ikran._" Mo'rel reminded her mate. "We will fly together soon." She stated confidently, laying a supporting hand on his chest.

The captain approached, banshees fluttering about angrily, their patience with the invaders having already worn thin. Most wanted nothing to do with him, watching the skipper warily for any sign of mischief. Only one stood its ground, a older creature which seemed rather unremarkable save for the scar tissue covering its flank, tooth marks from where some _toruk_ had probably taken a bite out of it. Somehow that felt appropriate and he felt a certain kinship with the animal, they both had their scars. Whatever he felt, however, the _ikran _obviously had other ideas, thrashing about angrily.

Jumping onto the creature's back, Ryan forced the rope around the animal's jaws in one swift motion. He reached for the queue triumphantly when the banshee bucked him off and straight into the rock wall. The impact stung terribly even as blood dripped from his forehead, seeping into his eyes. Wiping it away, struggling to see, he ran for the creature, faking it out with a shift to the side and back again, sliding underneath the beast and reaching for the dangling queue. It was against everything he had been taught to do, but somehow it felt right. This _ikran_ was a crafty beast, obviously making up for its age with cleverness, the normal rules didn't seem to apply. Fortunately, the banshee hadn't expected that move, most warriors who were caught underneath would have been eviscerated by the animal's claws. Ryan moved quickly enough to make the bond just before the claws reached for him. He felt the _ikran'_s shock at this, its displeasure at losing the duel fading into a deep-seated loyalty and respect.

"Uh... fly?" He stated hesitantly as he clamber onto its back. It was still remarkable, being able to bond with the life here, to feel as if both bodies were one. Sometimes he questioned the ability to simply _tell_ the animal what needed to be done. Yet it worked in this case, his _ikran_ leaped off the cliff face, diving to gain speed.

"Level out." And the banshee obeyed, gliding gently along the breeze. _Okay,_ he thought, _he needs a name. _Ryan's mind searched for a designation for the clever _ikran, _even as the beast screeched at him in protest, wanting to go make a meal out of some low flying wildlife beneath them. _Your name is... Joker._ It fit the banshee well enough and it had been the callsign of a fallen wing-man ages ago. Mo'rel pulled up along side of him, smiling with the thought of the unorthodox (but painful) success he had achieved. That seemed to be the general pattern of things on this rock, they would hurt him, he would learn and go do it all over again with some other task. But pain always did make the best teacher. Mo'rel had certainly convinced him of that much.

* * *

Battleships had never been designed for long voyages, the cramped quarters even further restricted by the outbound maneuvers. Most of the ship was accessible only with cables and climbing equipment now, only the flag deck and cargo bay were rotated in line with the acceleration. That meant very little to see or do except remain where he was, trying to figure out what went wrong with it all. He had something like five years to figure it out.

Parker putted the golf ball around his quarters absentmindedly even though he hadn't played a single game of real golf since before his first voyage to Pandora. Every golf course in the universe had gone up in smoke anyway, he'd never see the greens again. There was much to consider in that, he couldn't deny his own involvement in events. It had been his stupidity in deferring to Quaritch that had set everything in motion. It was frightening to think how much effect a single decision could have.

RDA's bankruptcy had broken the back of the Terran economy. Even if he hadn't been solely responsible, he had been saddled with the blame by the unemployed mobs. Earth had erupted into riots and brush wars, triggering the conflict between the homeworld and her inter-system colonies. Perhaps that was inevitable anyway, much of the heavy industry had moved off of Earth in search of greater supplies of natural resources in the belt and as far away as Pandora itself. A certain amount of jealousy on behalf of the masses left without jobs was natural, not that he had ever really cared about such things before.

_Clank_. The golf ball made contact with the plastic cup and he smiled triumphantly. When acceleration maneuvers finished, he could knock the golf ball all over the ship as he had done in the zero-g mining colonies. The dirt and grime of that place had scarred him permanently. His hands were worn and he knew he bore a certain amount of lung damage from the faulty air recyclers, but he was still breathing.

"Parker. What's going on?" The Admiral stood in the hatchway, watching him bemusedly. She had also chosen to stay awake, yet in her case it was more justifiable. The ship needed a small caretaker crew to ensure the engines continued to function properly, the equipment remained in good repair and that course change adjustments were correct.

"Keeping my sanity." He replied absently, sinking another putt into the cup. "Look at that! Still got it."

"Pointless game. Where are you going to find a golf course out here?" She pointed out.

"Got anything better?" The ex-administrator asked impatiently.

"Actually I do. We've been analyzing the log data we pulled from RDA HQ on the way out. We already knew _Montana_ escaped somewhere but now we've confirmed that her destination was Pandora." Ellen frowned in contemplation. There had been other planets that astronomers had located and suspected were capable of supporting life, but Pandora was the only rock _confirmed_ to be life bearing, even if rather hostile to humanity.

"Well it's three against one. They'd be stupid to fight us, right?" Parker had very little understanding of military tactics, but three warships to one sounded easy enough. At such odds, an enemy should simply surrender, right?

"They would lose," she confirmed. "But it would be bloody. _Kongo_ is a _Montana-class _ship, you know. _Montana_'s ever bit as modern as this ship. We have the battlecruisers to back us up, but they can't hang around a fight like a true battleship, you know."

"Why are you telling me this?" Parker inquired. No one had ever asked for or wanted his advice on military matters.

"I'm looking for another option, one that doesn't involve an orbital battle. We don't know what the situation is, but we need something to entice them with, a way to get them to join us instead of fight us." The Admiral explained. That, at least, was something he could ponder. His trade wasn't flying spacecraft into battle or even playing golf. Parker was, at heart, an administrator, a negotiator whose strength was in managing people for maximum advantage.

At least, that was what he used to tell himself. Last time he had tried to apply a carrot-and-stick negotiation, he had killed innocent savages and inadvertently started some kind of interstellar war. As much as he wanted something to do in the intervening years, he just wasn't sure of himself anymore. Certainly he didn't trust these Belters any further than he could throw them. He knew they had a hand in the destruction of Earth somehow, though exactly how much of a role, he couldn't say. That and killing more Na'vi just wasn't something his nightmares could handle. With Earth gone, his personal fortunes long since taken away from him, there just wasn't a lot left to live for anymore. The experience had been curiously humbling.

He dreaded falling asleep, seeing the fires burning on the monitors again, watching as their home fell. Sometimes he would see that final battle again, watching as IFF icons vanished from the battlefield, knowing everything was going to hell. Through it all was Jake's victorious face, glaring at him, gesturing towards the shuttle waiting to haul him back to Earth. Parker only wanted to kill one man, no more, no less. Maybe it wouldn't remove the haunting guilt, but it would feel good.

"So... what'll it be?" The Admiral questioned impatiently. There was a deadly air surrounding that question and Parker knew it for what it was. Though he wanted to put off his return to Pandora as long as possible, he also didn't trust this bitch not eject his cryo tube into space on a paranoid whim. On board the _Kongo,_ one always slept very lightly. The thinly veiled threat to simply have him ejected into space showed plainly on her face, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. One crewman had already "taken a spacewalk" for a poorly chosen political diatribe and Parker was in no hurry to join him.

"Well, I've got the time. Give me all of the information you have. There's gotta be something we can convince them with." Parker replied, making his choice.

"Good. I didn't want to have to shoot you out of an airlock." Ellen replied icily. "Here's the data, bios for crew we confirmed were on board, cargo manifests from the ISVs, etcetera. The last captain was Ryan Larson, though we could not confirm that he was still in command. I'm sure you are acquainted with the Na'vi and Jake Sully, of course." She stared intensely at him, enjoying his discomfort. It was an expression he had seen before on the face of a certain Colonel just before the man had ridden to his death, taking everyone's hopes down with him.


	11. Crossroads

**Chapter 11 – Crossroads**

**A few months later**

Caerus village was named for the ancient Greek personification of opportunity. Someone had thought of the name, though for his life, Ryan couldn't remember who it had been. With the village complete for the near term, only one task remained for the first batch of recruits. He knew the implications of it were grave, his human body would cease to function, his old life would cease to be. Like Earth, it would become a distant memory, a memory of a past existence sadly left behind. He would spend this final night in his human body, despite the annoyance of the exopack secured to his face and the embarrassing situation of allowing his mate to see him as such. Fortunately, she seemed to take it all in stride, seeking him out easily among the gathered humans.

As if they were still linked as one, Mo'rel sat next to him, silently watching the pre-transfer party taking place all around them. Firelight, music and dancing gave life to the nascent village, christening it with flair and grandeur. But the celebration paled in comparison to the wonder and love he felt for his mate. Even when in his human body, he could not help but appreciate her graceful beauty, the strength of mind and body that had attracted him in the first place. Still, the situation was awkward at best. It was she who finally broke the silence, speaking in that strange hybrid of English and Na'vi that had taken hold among the recruits.

"You do not join the others?" She inquired, her head tilting curiously.

"I will, later. Just thinking, is all." He answered.

"You think too much." She protested, regarding him curiously as she took in the sight of this different body.

"Yeah, probably true." He admitted, shifting about uncomfortably.

"Your people need their leader_._" She pointed out. "Tonight more than most. Tomorrow they will pass through the Eye of Eywa. They must be strong for this."

"Don't worry, babe," He began, watching her frown slightly at the human term of endearment. "I will go to them. But first, I must make peace with it _myself."_

"You do not wish to become one of us in body as well as mind?" She looked hurt, and Ryan knew he was treading on dangerous territory. She had forgiven him of his mistakes, yet she still remained wary, afraid he would leave her. It had taken a great deal of time to explain human mating customs to her, so foreign were they to a people like the Na'vi. Yet once she had understood them, she had mostly forgiven him. However that implanted a fear in her that perhaps Ryan still remained too attached to his old life, and that he would abandon her as many humans abandoned their mates.

"I want to. I never thought I would want to so much..." He reached for her hand, so much larger than his own, and squeezed it gently with reassurance. "Still, it's hard to say goodbye to the body I was born into, the life I once had, even if I no longer want it."

Mo'rel nodded at this. "I understand. Passing through the Eye of Eywa, it is no small thing." Her free hand traced the outside of his strangely foreign and yet familiar face.

"So there's a question I have for you." Nervousness crept up his spine as he worked to find the courage. "In uh... Sky People customs, mates live together with one another."

"It is the same for us." Mo'rel observed.

"Well... I must live here, among my people. There will be more to train, and Jake has done enough for us, we must start to do things on our own now." Ryan began.

"You wish to know if I would remain with the Omaticaya, or stay here with you, in this _village._" She replied, finishing his unspoken question.

"Yeah, exactly. Look, I want you with me, but I can't ask you to abandon your people either."

"I will stay here with you." She answered confidently. "I am Omaticaya, this will never change. Should I come to them, they will always know me as one of their People. But I am also of the Sky Clan now."

"We'll see them often, it's not like they are far away." He answered. Certainly, he was being selfish, and he knew it. But living without her near had become impossible. He _needed _her, it was beyond simple desire now. The link had told him that she felt the same, it was so amazing to _know_ how your mate felt, it made things so much less complicated. He longed to return to that body now, to bond with her again. Ryan's heart was a jackhammer in his chest, a mass of raw emotion he could barely contain. Pandora had changed him so greatly, he never though he could experience such feeling.

"You are _Olo'eytkan_ among your clan. This makes me _Tsahik _of the Sky Clan_. _I must help your people see Eywa, to hear her voice." She smiled. "Or did you not know this, either?"

"There's a lot I don't know." He admitted. "But as much as I like the Na'vi title, I'm just a Captain of a ship. I'm not really in charge here, I guess people just kind of look to me for orders out of habit."

"Cap'i'tan or _Olo'eytkan, _it doesn't matter. You led your people away from your dying world." She deliberately mispronounced his title, showing him just how similar the two positions really were.

"Yeah. I just wanted to fly ships though, never did want to lord over people like some tinpot dictator. I don't know the first thing about running a colony." He pointed out.

"Which is why I must stay here with you. Who else is to teach you and your people these things? After all, you sniff the ground like _nantang_, you will need a lot of help." She laughed at this, amused with her little joke.

Her beautiful golden eyes stared into his lovingly, despite the difference in form and body now. The purity of Na'vi emotions was truly overwhelming to him, they were a tough race, and yet so fragile in some ways. It was an innocence Ryan never wanted to harm again. Every time he linked with her, he felt the pureness of her spirit, the innocence of a race that barely even understood the concept of lying, of deliberately hiding yourself. The queues they possessed changed everything, the spots that indicated mood and thought told so much. _God, the Na'vi would suck at poker,_ he thought, smiling. Yet soon he would be bound by the same rules, the same restrictions.

"I'm ready now, to join the others. I love you. I _see_ you." He spoke both concepts, for he was pretty certain he loved her in _both_ ways.

"You will dance with me?" She asked slyly.

"Tomorrow. This body bears many old wounds." As her smile morphed into an expression of sympathy, Ryan frowned. He could walk still, and stand on his own just fine, but it required assistance of a cane now. Yet even in the Fleet, he would have been kicked out were it not for the desperation of the war between Earth and Mars Colony. Having any kind of lameness was more or less a disqualification for space combat, where heavy g-forces could often be exerted. Yet experienced commanding officers were rare enough in Mars Fleet that they had allowed him to stay on for the last battle over Earth. The same problem prevented him from truly letting loose with his mate tonight, and the injury had only become worse with time.

"Tomorrow we will do much more than dance. Our people are few, we must help to grow their numbers." Mo'rel smiled teasingly. The way she said "our people" made him smile with anticipation. She took so much in stride, handling situations that might have driven a human rather insane. However, her implications caused his cheeks to redden and his eyes to turn away. Never, in his wildest dreams, had he ever considered such a thing before. Then again, as a sign of how much things had changed, here he was at such a massive party, and there wasn't even a bottle in his hand.

* * *

Sky People had always been a sort of contradiction for Neytiri, a strange duality of wonder and death. They had killed her father, destroyed her home and brought so much destruction upon her world. Yet they had brought her mate from across the stars, prepared this body for him that he might join her people. Humans had so much good in them and yet held the potential for such immense evils. It was an odd concept that threatened to drive her mad sometimes.

For now, the firelight flickered in the clearing of the village, Humans, Avatars and Omaticaya dancing, laughing and enjoying themselves. Sky People instruments produced hauntingly beautiful music, filling the spaces between their strange buildings. There were _guitars_ and _bongos_, along with other devices she had never seen before. Even though the village was so new, already many Na'vi came from distant tribes to trade for the instruments. They struck a chord with her people, who had always held a special love for the beauty of sound. Already it helped to cover many of the gulfs between the two peoples.

Beside her, Jake stirred uncomfortably for a moment. Though he had trained these newcomers, they were not meant to live among the Omaticaya. Norm and Trudy had proven themselves worthy of her clan, but the rest would soon be responsible for looking out after themselves and their own tribe. It was obvious to her that Jake felt a measure of foreboding at this. As long as these avatars remained under his control, they could do no lasting harm. But cast out among their own, there was much mischief they could cause. They would not cause trouble out of malice, for Eywa would not allow such people to transfer, but rather, out of ignorance.

"You worry about them, that they will be true to our ways." Neytiri said simply.

"They don't have the benefit of experience." Jake answered, watching as the 'last night' party unfolded.

"They have us to guide them. Many have chosen mates." Neytiri pointed out. Ryan had been the first, albeit the most disastrous, but he certainly hadn't been the last. Of the original twenty-five, at least ten had chosen mates already. Of course, some of those choices had been among _each other,_ but there were others who had chosen from among the Omaticaya. Jake frowned slightly at this, as it reduced the numbers of his own clan even as they tried to recover from the battles against the RDA. If this was a pattern, it was a disturbing one at best.

"There are less of us now." Jake spoke aloud.

"There will be one more soon." The bulge in Neytiri's belly spoke to that end. Their second child was due any day now. Her mate smiled at this, despite the difficulty of raising Grace. She knew how much he loved their daughter, Neytiri could feel it every time they bonded together.

"You're right. I can't be worrying about a few people leaving to join them. We have Norm and Trudy to welcome into our clan soon, too." Jake said.

"They will be great hunters. Trudy is a good flier. Norm is very wise." She replied. Truly, she was excited to have them join the Omaticaya. They deserved it, for all they had done to help the People, and the happiness it brought to them was undeniable. If truer, wiser Sky People existed, she had never met them.

"So, want to dance?" Jake smiled, taking her hand as they made their way together towards the bonfire. Even now, after so many years, it was obvious how much her mate enjoyed using his legs after living without their use in his human body. It was that appreciation for life that had originally attracted her, even the simplest things still amazed him, and she took great pleasure in sharing her world with him each day.

Humans in exopacks danced side-by-side with Avatars and Na'vi hunters, even some of the Plains People had joined them for this night. There was food, both for human and Na'vi, meat roasting over the fire and rations being passed around. Music was everywhere, laughing and dancing, even inside the off-site modules that had been airlifted nearby. Many of the humans had decided to leave the confines of Hell's Gate, and come live here, among the Sky Clan. It was obvious that a great deal of them were impatient for their own chance to join this world.

Jake stepped on her feet and she hissed distractedly. "You dance like a _skxwang._"

Her mate laughed at this. "Maybe. You're no ballerina yourself, though." He pointed out, dodging a human couple.

Circling around the flame, they passed Norm and Trudy, dancing in their human bodies for what was to be their last night as such. They would be enjoying sensations and feelings they would never experience quite the same way again. Neytiri couldn't imagine changing actual bodies like this and she admired their bravery for handling it so well. Norm glanced at her for a moment, smiling with anticipation and the love of his own mate. She nodded back at him as Jake twirled her around again and she nearly lost her balance.

Worry flooded her awareness in that moment, concern for all who would face the Eye of Eywa tomorrow. Such a thing was not meant to be taken lightly. Though she had never had to pass through herself, she knew the intensity of the event through her mate's thoughts. As if sensing the disturbance in her mind, or perhaps merely tiring, Jake held her hand and directed her away from the dancers.

"What is it, my Neytiri?"

"I am afraid, Jake. For them." She gestured towards Norm and Trudy, still laughing and enjoying themselves.

"You fear they may not pass through the Eye." He stated unnecessarily.

"Will Eywa know them as we do?" She asked.

"You're the _Tsahik_, how should I know?" He tried to lighten the mood, but it didn't work. "Look, passing through was hard. I'm not going to lie, it might have been the hardest thing I ever did. Eywa tests you, to ensure that you are loyal to this world, that you are loyal to yourself. You must be strong and true to yourself to pass through, she knows if you are false. I don't fear for Norm or Trudy, they are both strong people and smarter than I am. Even these other people, I don't fear for so much. If Ryan can survive Mo'rel, I'm sure he will do fine, so will the others."

The speech came suddenly, and it made him feel awkward. Jake wasn't really a man of many words, but sometimes it was important anyway. In this one thing, he held more knowledge of Eywa than his mate, _Tsahik_ of the Omaticaya. He didn't want her to fear for those who would pass through the Eye, but truth be told, he was rather anxious about it himself. Part of him had never fully trusted these new recruits, yet if Eywa approved of them, he would have incontrovertible proof of their honesty. He would be forced to take them at their word.

"Tomorrow we face Eywa." Norm began, stroking Trudy's cheek in the relative privacy of the off-site module. Outside, the celebration was winding down, the echoes of music and conversation dwindling further with each passing moment.

"Yeah. I'm ready for her, let's just hope she can handle me." Trudy smiled slightly at her own joke.

"The real question is, do you really want this?" Norm asked.

"Besides taking off a good twenty-years... yeah. I mean I'm as sick of these damned exopacks, cramped quarters and nasty-ass rations as everyone else." Trudy pointed out.

"That's not what I mean. Eywa isn't just going to let you through because you want to remove a few wrinkles and ditch some bad grub. I mean do you really want to live among the Omaticaya, to give up all the creature comforts for hunting your own food, fetching your own water..." Norm asked pointedly.

"It's boring, sitting on your ass all day. At least out here, there's something to do. Besides, I like flying out here. So yeah, I want this. Maybe more than you do." Trudy explained, allowing herself to fall into his lap. It would be their last night together in their human bodies. She smiled knowingly at him, toying with her shirt, teasing him with the sight of her still-gorgeous body.

"You're as bad as any guy I've ever heard of." Norm laughed.

"Shuttup, Norm. You like it." And he did.

* * *

Sunlight as everywhere in the cloudless sky, reflecting off of the great floating mountains above the Tree of Souls. Everything Norm had come to love about Pandora was represented here, in this place. So much had happened here, so much happiness, so much sorrow. If the planet possessed a heart, it was here, and the Na'vi knew it. Many had come to help them make the transition, hundreds of Omaticaya were here to see him become one of The People in all ways.

Norm made many friends among them, and each had come to offer support. Jake stood next to Neytiri their gazes covered in concern and hope. As if in a dream, Norm lay next to his Avatar, feeling the tendrils of the world-spanning consciousness touching him _within._ There was nothing to compare it too. Others lay nearby, beyond those few was an entire line of waiting recruits, each to transfer one after another, each to face the Eye of Eywa, whatever that meant. He would be the first, the scientist had been waiting for this for most of his life.

"We are here to welcome our brothers and sisters, to the forms their souls desire, to become one with the People in flesh and soul." Neytiri announced, fulfilling her role as Tsahik.

"I know you can do it, Norm." Jake added.

"Mind if I say a word or two?" Ryan asked, approaching Jake respectfully, hands held out.

"Sure." Jake replied simply, making room for him to address his crewmen.

"You know I suck at speeches, so I'm keeping it short. We survived a lot of battles and traveled vast distances together, to reach this moment. Maybe we wouldn't be here if terrible things hadn't happened, but now that I'm here, I know this is where I want home to be. I know most of you feel the same. You're strong people, you had to be to make it this far and survive so much. We'll make it through this too, believe it and you'll be fine." The skipper gave his little speech and returned to his position in the line-up. Mo'rel watched him with a hint of pride.

Certainly most of that didn't apply to Norm, but it didn't matter. Everyone here believed in him, and he could not let them down. Chanting began to reach his ears, the rhythm a pulsating representation of life, of Eywa herself. Neytiri's voice was the loudest among them, her words echoing in is awareness with each pounding drumbeat. Blackness overcame his vision, his senses beginning to fade into the background. Norm felt himself floating away, drifting along the current like an aimless boat caught in the river's flow, bouncing about in the nothingness.

"Where am I?"

"Why the hell do all you people always ask that?" It was Grace Augustine's voice, Norm would recognize it anywhere. "Bad enough coming from Jake, but you should know better, Norm."

"Grace?" As if in reply, the cynical scientist suddenly appeared in his field of vision, clad in her white labcoat, her trademark cigarette caught between her fingers, smoke wafting lazily upward.

"Doctor Augustine to you, right now." Her voice was filled with amusement at his discomfort

"Does this mean I failed?" The thought of it was nauseating.

"It means you haven't succeeded yet. This isn't like copying a computer file, you know. It's a lot of work, and you people are asking me to do it many times." Her voice picked up a touch of annoyance.

"Are you Eywa or Grace?" As he asked, suddenly wondering just _who_ was doing the transferring.

"Both." Came the simple reply. Grace flicked her cigarette away and it faded into the omnipresent blackness. "So why are you here, Norm? And don't tell me it's 'cause your jealous of that jarhead." The words might have been insulting, were it not for the endearing tone. Jake and Grace had never seen exactly eye-to-eye, yet they had become friends eventually, sharing that bond with the Na'vi.

"There's nothing else I could want. I studied for so many years to come here. In the back of my mind I always wondered what it was like, to live here among them. It's why I joined the program to begin with. You must know what it's like now, too, with Eywa." Norm answered.

"Dying at the foot of the Tree of Souls wasn't in my long-term planning... but I get the attraction." Grace replied. "Fortunately, Eywa kind of has a thing for you. You're transferring now, you know."

"Then why did you ask?" Norm wondered.

"It's been a long time, you know. When you wake up, remember me, okay? It's nice, being a part of this world, but I want to talk to my friends up there every once in awhile. You know where to find me." Grace answered wistfully. "I wish you and Trudy the best. Can't say I would have put money on your chances with her, but then I wouldn't have figured Jake would have picked up Neytiri either. Shows you how much I know."

"I'll come see you, I just never found you here." Norm protested innocently. "I mean, I kind of hoped you were around, but..."

"Don't worry about it. Eywa doesn't come with an instruction manual." Her tone grew darker for a moment before she continued.

"You take care of Jake, okay? He's going to need your help soon. There's some kind of trouble brewing out there in space, waiting for you. He needs your brain on his side, to make up for the one he's missing." Grace vanished, but her voice lingered for just a moment longer.

"Always figured I'd get a sample of the damned tree someday... never thought I'd become a part of it instead. Funny."

Norm's eyes opened gradually, his mind struggling to focus on the blurry world around him. Strong sensations of scent and sound came over him from everywhere, bombarding him. As strong as his senses had been linking to his avatar, they were stronger still now that he was a permanent part of it. As his eyes focused finally, he saw his blue-skinned hands and he marveled at them, smiling with excitement, ready to truly begin his life, the one he had always desired. Grace's words echoed in his mind, reminding him that he had a warning to deliver. It almost sapped away the pleasure he felt at finally achieving his dream. Almost.

* * *

Perhaps no one truly understood just what it was that Eywa did when she transferred a mind from one body to another. Certainly no one had been able to explain it to Ryan Larson, and that only increased his anxiety. Yet he had faced many challenges over the years, barely missing the outbreak of the plague on Mars Colony, surviving the orbital battle over Earth and even the planet's destruction itself. Probably more to the point of his mission today, he had survived his mate's deadly wrath. The thought of her brought a smile to his face, the anticipation of being with her outweighing the fear. As he drifted off, the last thing he saw was Mo'rel's beautiful face smiling down upon him.

The tendrils encircled him and he slipped away as if in a dream, his consciousness falling away in layers. Soon he felt as if he were floating in the void between world, the blackness interrupted only by the pinpricks of distant starlight. He knew space as a cold, silent place, there was a certain loneliness that always lay upon a warship captain. Space offered no comfort, and he had to keep his crew somewhat distant, knowing many of their lives would be snuffed out under his command. It was the ever-present curse of command.

"Why are you here?" Impossibly, a soft female voice echoed in the void. Sound wasn't supposed to exist here, yet in dreams, anything was possible.

"Who are you?" The question was stupid, who else _could_ it be?

"I am Pandora." Came the simple reply. The beautiful emerald and cerulean globe of Pandora orbited around the great gas giant, Polyphemus, itself circling lazily Alpha Centauri A. It was as if the world itself spoke to him in sing-song tones.

"Then you know why I am here." He answered. Eywa would know him, know every memory every thought, as if it were her own. Ryan could hide nothing from her, so he didn't even bother to try. "I'm not perfect but I've come to love this world and everything on it. I'm not sure that makes me worthy, or whatever, but it's truth."

"I know." The world's voice answered him. "That's not why I granted your request."

"You did? Why?"

Mo'rel's visage wavered in his awareness. He drew in the sight of her hunting stealthily through the forest, the sound of her crying out with joy as they mated for the first time, the scent of her body close to his.

"If one of the People can love you, then so can I. Lead well the clan you serve. I will watch over you." The voice began. Ryan sighed in relief, afraid that Eywa would show him Earth, its destruction and the death of so many. It was a sight he simply couldn't bear to face again. The world-spanning consciousness had spared him that memory, knowing full well how much it tortured him. Whatever else the life-force might be, she was not needlessly cruel. Nonetheless he detected the subtle warning in her words. She would be watching them, wary that they should fall into the ways of Old Earth. Yet it was comforting to know that all life would guard against such a thing.

As his eyes opened, the the only image he faced was the ravishing, wild beauty of his mate, feeling the intense bond coursing through him once again. She smiled with obvious relief, stroking his face gently. He felt his tail, the strength of his powerful arms and legs, the sharpness of his senses. Ignoring the eyes of all those watching, he stood and embraced his mate, their tails curling together. He never expected to fall in love on this rock, but now that he had, he admitted to himself that little else truly compared to that all-consuming feeling, the concern for another surpassing all other thoughts.

One-by-one the transfers completed, some taking longer than others but all finishing successfully. Relief crossed the faces of those who waited, understanding that perhaps the procedure was not as deathly serious as had been thought. The last candidate stood confidently, smiling oddly. Neytiri was positively beaming, having confirmed for herself that the humans held her home no ill-will. She listened for Eywa's will as she led the chant, each time feeling the happiness of one who had seen the Eye of Eywa and come through alive.

Then came the terrible scream. Pain flooded through her awareness and the assembled Na'vi broke their link with Eywa violently. Some were physically thrown back with powerful force and mental anguish. Neytiri felt the will of Eywa almost immediately, as _atokirina _mobbed both of the candidate's bodies violently. Unlike the soft, loving way they had attached themselves to Jake, these seeds were shifting about with obvious distaste, looking like a cloud of angry insects.

"What happened?" Ryan asked immediately even as Jake ran to Neytiri's side with obvious concern.

"This man..." Neytiri began, blinking back the tears. "He... was of those who destroyed your world. He would have done the same, here."

"What?" Ryan screamed. "Willis was a fucking traitor?"

"He intended harm to Eywa. He tried to hide this, but Eywa knew." Neytiri answered. The memory of Earth's destruction some how made this terrible man feel a measure of satisfaction. It was a shock to her awareness that anyone could have such disregard for life. How he had even completed the trials was a mystery to her.

Jake soothed her gently, wrapping an arm around her lovingly. "My Neytiri..."

"Jake... he tried to send a message to others... I do not know how to explain. He knows others will come. Terrible Sky People with nothing but hate." She blinked away a tear, trying to banish the terrible images that had bombarded her through Eywa. Both bodies of the offending enemy breathed no more, but the memories of that terrible creature's hatred lingered.

"God, no, can't they just leave us the fuck alone?" Ryan's face looked ashen as he considered the implications. "If they are coming here, we have to be ready for them."

Neytiri had no answer for the Sky Clan leader. Part of her was still happy for them, that they might live among the People. Norm and Trudy, especially, had been great moments for her, seeing them complete their journey. But such things were outweighed by the terrible visions she had seen in that single moment. Silence descended over the assembled Na'vi and none spoke as they slowly headed back towards the forest. No one sought to bury the bodies of this dishonorable Sky Person left behind. The forest would attend to that matter in time.


	12. Between Two Worlds

_Special Thanks: **ChaosOneTwo** and **txontaw** for beta-reading a lot of the latest chapters and for providing some excellent ideas that helped make this story work so far._

**Chapter 12 - Between Two Worlds**

The scream was terrible, unlike Jake had ever heard from his mate before. Even without the link, he would have known something had gone horribly wrong, but he could actually _feel_ the pain of her labor through the bond. Neytiri's body spasmed feircely and the Omaticayan women stared in worry and frustration. The child was not turning properly, and all feared for their _Tsahik'_s life.

Norm was there, normally it would have been a great violation for him to be here, but as the foremost xenobiologist on the planet, save only for Max, it was to him that all eyes fell. Jake felt waves of pain wash over him, trying to suppress what Neytiri felt, clutching her hand tightly with love. Max had warned them that Avatar/Na'vi matings carried more than the usual amount of risk, at least in the first generation. But even Neytiri had wanted another child so desperately.

"I've got it... look, I need hot water, now." Norm stated matter-of-factly. Na'vi women were a blur of motion around them, struggling to comply.

Jake felt his mate's anguish and he willed her to hold on, he couldn't face the long days ahead without her. _I need you, _came the selfish, yet completely understandable thought. Neytiri smiled weakly at this, her own love washing over him, cleansing him of his fears. They would get through this, she wasn't giving up just yet.

Above, twilight descended over the sky, many of the clan praying for the safe birthing of their _Tsahik's_ child. There were chants, there was Norm's furrowed brow, and the steam rising up from the hot water. Jake felt his mate's hand squeeze his so hard it was almost painful, her teeth gritting in excruciating agony.

Then he heard the cry, felt the sudden wave of relief descend over Neytiri. All eyes rested on the son before them, already delivered to her waiting hands.

"Eytukan." Neytiri said simply, before drifting off to exhausted sleep. Jake smiled at this, the name was a good one, the echo of a great man who had given him his own chance among the Omaticaya.

* * *

_Kongo_ glided ominously across the vast emptiness of deep space, leading the formation of humanity's last fleet of starships as if on some sort of unholy crusade. Hybrid antimatter/fusion engines blazed with crimson light, casting a great plasma trail through space and time, like the contrails of aircraft in the skies of old Earth. The detachable engine module was far more massive than the _Kongo_, dwarfing even the great battleship it towed through the endless void.

The battleship herself was a cylindrical mass, coated with titanium-composite armor plating, bristling with numerous broadside missile tubes and the railgun turrets. _Kongo_ was a testament to the RDA design teams which had first penned her design and to the Belter hands which had built her. Most such hands were long-dead now, fallen in the short but apocalyptic war which had befallen the Terran system. Yet the vessel they had constructed represented the pinnacle of modern warfare; she was among largest and most powerful weapons platforms ever constructed.

Gravity had reached a full gee now, the outbound acceleration maneuvers having reached their peak, gradually adding velocity and approaching that unbreakable speed limit of the universe. Parker sat comfortably in his quarters now, no longer having to get used to the strange sensation of low gravity. It had been a welcome change from his time spent in the Asteroid Belt, stuck with the gritty, dirty labor of a micro-gravity miner. That life had been a hell from which he thought there would be no escape. In fact, the only positive feature about the entire place was that it hadn't required him to think at all. Manual labor was hellish, but it was oddly peaceful to have no great responsibility whatsoever.

Parker had been certain he would die out there, but now it seemed that fate had forced him down a different path. He laughed despite himself, wondering if he was simply trading one death-sentence for another, for whatever the Admiral might have ordered him to do, it was unlikely Jake Sully or any of his compatriots would go down quietly. Maybe the Na'vi were sentient, but they were so much like animals, and that way of life had implanted itself equally on Jake Sully. And this time they had a battleship of their own at their disposal. He tried to have confidence in the Admiral's military assessment of the situation, but Quaritch's fall from grace had taught him the valuable lesson that military situations were terrible, fluid things. There was no predicting what might happen when enemies engaged one another.

"Studying late, I see." Admiral Matheson interrupted, opening the hatch. It was unnerving to know that she could do that whenever she felt the urge.

"Can you let me 'study' in peace?" He asked acidly.

"Later. I want to know what you have for me." She replied darkly. It was obvious to him, at least, that this woman was anything but stable.

"We have years left in the journey and you want a report now? Jesus." Parker answered, exasperated.

"Well, I have to be sure you're making progress." The Admiral replied.

"I'll tell you from my own experience. If you want to screw over the blue monkeys, you blow up their tree." Parker answered. As much as it pained him to go over the same material again and again, at least destroying the Tree of Souls would break the Na'vi without having to slaughter all of them. Grace's statements so long ago about the divine position occupied by their damned tree seemed to lend credence to this. He could swear he saw a look of _disappointment_ on the Admiral's face at this.

"We can't target it from orbit. The flux, remember? Our missile tracking would fail. Railgun rounds wouldn't do it either, there's too much floating rock in the way to get a clean shot." The Admiral challenged. "We've been over this before."

"Can't you land someone on the ground, give them some way of relaying coordinates or some crap?" Parker pointed out. "Then you could trash the place from orbit. The Na'vi give up and no one has to die except the _Montana _crew..." He paused momentarily, letting the statement draw out into silence. Truly, he didn't want to be involved in any of this, but if death had to occur, the least he could do was minimize it as much as possible.

"We could do that." The Admiral rubbed her chin in deep thought. "I'd still rather not fight _Montana_ if we don't have to, though. That's what you're supposed to be working on, not military strategy."

"Believe me, I get it. I'm just saying... these natives, I don't know what it is, but they can mess with your head. They convinced some of my people to join them. I wouldn't be surprised if this battleship was strongly on their side. I'll try to talk them down, just saying a backup plan would be good." Parker explained, his exaggerated body language conveying his exasperation.

"All right. I can accept that for now. Chow's being served in ten." The Admiral finished, turning on her heels with military precision, leaving the hatchway open. Parker frowned, the gravity might be better than living in the Belt, but the food was still just as terrible. He missed the days when he called the shots, when the tastiest morsels had been his to eat, not this algae-based swill. Still, he had to admit, he had probably been the worst Administrator in the history of Earth. If anyone deserved to each disgusting green goop everyday, it was probably him.

As he ducked through the hatchway, the self-loathing came at him again. Here he was, essentially a mass murderer who had killed Pandoran natives for rock... and he was coming around to do it all over again. That the Admiral more or less held a gun to his head didn't make the situation any more palatable to him. Eventually she would cease to find him useful anyway, and he would wind up as discarded and ruined as the planet on which he had been born.

* * *

**3 Weeks Later**

Caerus village was alive, the morning light streaming through the wooden cabins and the off-site modules. Already, the newly-transferred men and women awoke and exited their cabins, Mo'rel's voice urging them to assist her in rounding up a herd of nearby _pa'li. _The nearby river churned with heavy flow, bolstered by the summer rains, turning great wooden water wheels that drove the small generators powering the village's radio equipment. Ryan knew it as a strange sort of hybrid of the high-tech and the primitive, just as they were, themselves, hybrids of advanced biotechnology and the simplistic ways of the Na'vi bodies which they now inhabited.

Still, the warnings from the day of the transfer lingered in his mind, shattering his peaceful idyll. Today he would return to the stars, reactivating the dormant _Montana_ in orbit, preparing for the inevitable attack they all knew was on the way. The entire concept of the thing threatened his sanity, he would be fighting, essentially, the last remnants of the human race aside from his own small group. No matter who would win the impending conflict, humanity would lose. Yet it was his responsibility to ensure the Na'vi didn't go down with them. Pandora was so much like that ancient legend, full of a strange sort of innocence, a thing that triggered all manner of protective instincts in him.

Jake was next to him suddenly, as a silent and sneaky as any Na'vi. "Nice setup you've got here. Not what I would have chosen, but not bad." Ryan had never become entirely accustomed to the absolute silence with which many Na'vi moved, even though he had learned a fair amount of their tricks himself.

"Yeah. Don't get me wrong, it was nice to swing around the trees for fun. But I like it here a little better." Ryan answered. "Besides, I like running water." The river provided for a basic low-pressure water system for the village, a novelty many curious Na'vi eyes had contemplated at great length.

"Can't say I don't miss that sometimes." Jake answered. "Just keep it simple." He cautioned. Water wheels and and small aqueducts didn't seem to offend Na'vi sensibilities much, but there was a practical limit to how much of the Sky People machinery they would accept easily. For now, most simply regarded it as a symptom of the strangeness most Sky People were never fully cured of.

"We're not trying to build Rome here," Ryan began. "Just figured a few conveniences would be nice."

"What does your mate think of them?" Jake nodded towards Mo'rel, still rounding up _pa'li _for the journey to Hell's Gate.

"She asked me why you'd need a bath tub when the river is right over there." Ryan laughed. "Then she tried a hot bath, and hasn't looked back since." That event had been particularly amusing for him, trying to convince her that jumping into a vat of heated water was anything but for cooking.

"Heh. You'll find the most complicated crap scientists can think up isn't worth anything to them. But the simple things? They are amazed by them." Jake explained. "The Na'vi value living more than explaining. Can't say I disagree."

"So is Neytiri coming with you?" Ryan asked, changing the topic. "I mean, up there." He pointed lazily in the general direction of the sky.

"Yeah. She wants to know where us Sky People come from. How about Mo'rel?" Jake replied.

"I don't think she trusts me not to stay up there. She's coming along to make sure I behave, I guess."

"Can you blame her?" Jake asked, amused.

"Not really. You found that whole mating thing funny, didn't you?" Ryan asked. Certainly it had been rather amusing to some, that he could be so blatantly ignorant of Na'vi mating rituals and biology. It wasn't just a cultural thing, it was _biologically_ impossible for them to mate with another, once bonded. For that matter, the same had been true of his Avatar body once he had done the deed. Still, he couldn't ask for anyone better, somehow Eywa had known the right thing to do even if he had been rather clueless.

"Funny? Nah. But it was nice to see someone screw up more than I did." Jake offered.

"You wound up with a Na'vi princess. How exactly did you screw up?" Ryan asked pointedly.

"She was betrothed to another." Jake answered with dry humor.

"Nice. How did that go down?"

"I nearly got killed." Jake replied, watching as the assembled group mounted their _pa'li, _and prepared to depart. "Guess we should get going. Neytiri's going by _ikran,_ she'll meet us there." The only reason they weren't taking their own _ikran _was for the simple reason that a horde of flying lizards scared the crap out of most of Hell's Gate's inhabitants. That and the creatures roosting on top of the cabins and structures of the village served to keep away most angry predators.

Accepting his mate's hand, Ryan clambered onto the back of her _pa'li,_ recognizing the beast as the Gollum, the stubborn horse that had decided to convert him into a flying missile months before. The direhorse snorted, obviously annoyed with his offending presence. Apparently, the _pa'li_'s opinion of him hadn't changed of late.

* * *

Trudy cursed. There was so much she could be doing right now, enjoying her new life in this body, gliding through the clouds on her _ikran._ Instead, she was stuck with ferrying duty in a cockpit several sizes too small for her. To be fair, she _was_ the best pilot here, and knew the wind currents and magnetic field oddities better than anyone here. It had been some time since she last piloted a dropship, though, and it took some time for her to re-familiarize herself with the equipment.

Like the Valkyrie shuttles, these dropships were essentially three stages in one airframe. There were the VTOL turbines which allowed for slow, level flight, there were the ramjet engines that kicked in at 20,000 feet, allowing the craft to build immense speed and launch towards the very edge of the atmosphere, and then there were the chemical rockets which provided that last bit of boost to break atmosphere and accelerate into orbit. The three-stage system hadn't changed much since she'd flown dropships back on Earth, but this craft was much larger than the Valkyrie-class shuttles she had been used to. At least she'd have a copilot familiar with the craft, courtesy of the skipper's people.

She frowned in contemplation as she waited for the others to board. She had adapted to life here, on Pandora, and at some level it was disturbing to contemplate an orbiting vessel with enough firepower in orbit to sterilize a continent. It was even worse to imagine that more of these things were probably on the way over from smoldering Earth. Beyond that, after flying her _ikran,_ this all seemed rather mechanical and contrived. Of course, until banshees figured out how to strap rockets on themselves, this was the only way to reach orbit, she thought distractedly.

"All right, get in line. You know the drill, move your assess." She ordered into the intercom, watching her monitors as over fifty people trudged into the cargo area, some fitted with exopacks, others rather large and blue-skinned. It was a curious mix of peoples, there were even a pair of Na'vi in there, Neytiri and Mo'rel looking rather uncomfortable in the foreign, mechanical contraption.

"Ellis, we good?" She turned towards her copilot, a balding man of about forty, who Ryan had specifically recommended for the task. It was strange to see humans from this towering body now, they appeared so tiny, so fragile. His hands were a blur, checking off switches, dials and computer monitors.

She took in a breath, noticing the strange _lack_ of something in the air. The toxic chemicals in the Pandoran atmosphere weren't necessary for Na'vi bodies to breath, given that their lungs required oxygen in the same manner as a human, but the air was stale and foreign without them. She briefly wondered if there would be any effects from it, but Max had assured her it was fine for short stints of less than a few weeks. Zero-g would also have its affects, though she was rather looking forward to that, there was something amusing in being able to float around everywhere.

"Pre-flight checks out, ma'am. All stages are green, we have clearance from the tower. We're a go." The man replied simply, trying not to gawk at her impossibly tall body clad in traditional Na'vi garb, which was to say, not much at all.

"Keep your eyes out there where they belong." She warned, adjusting her small articles for better coverage. "This isn't a peep show."

The man gulped nervously at the ten-foot tall, blue-skinned woman next to him. "Yes, ma'am."

"Tower, this is dropship two-niner, on outbound flight profile to low orbit." Ellis spoke quickly.

"Roger, two-niner, you are cleared to depart."

As she double-checked the cargo door seals and ensured that the passengers were strapped in, she thumbed the engine start button, beginning the sequence that would take them all into orbit. Briefly, she wondered how the two Na'vi aboard would fare with the gee-forces they were about to experience. The dropship lurched as the turbines lifted the massive vessel off of the shuttlepad.

"Come on, bitch..." Trudy cursed, feeling the engines struggle a moment with weight.

"We're near maximum load." Ellis cautioned.

"Yeah yeah..." She pushed the throttle harder, gaining altitude slowly. "She's just got a big ass."

Trudy gained altitude, pushing the craft ever-higher, finally reaching the launch altitude. As the ramjets kicked in, the shuttle accelerated rapidly, pushing almost six gees. With this unfamiliar body, Trudy whipped back briefly before she recovered, clutching the controls tightly as they picked up speed. It didn't take long to reach the Pandoran exosphere, the fluid border between atmosphere and deep space. The ramjets sputtered, no longer receiving enough air for continued operation, and the pilot switched over to the stage three rockets. The shuttle's rocket engines burned brightly as they blew out of the atmosphere at high speed, accelerating into orbit.

Mo'rel had no idea what to expect from the bizarre Sky People contraption that surrounded her. Intellectually, she knew that it shuttled the humans from her world to their place in the stars, yet there was only the dimmest comprehension of _how_ this was achieved. Her mate had gone to great pains to try and explain it to her, but in the end it was enough to say that the machine _did_ go to the stars, even if she had no concept of the science behind it.

So when she was slammed against her harness, she gripped Ryan's hand in a moment of terror before gaining control over her mind again. This concept she did understand, having felt a far less intense version of it, diving after prey on her _ikran._ When you went flew fast enough, sometimes you fell backward or forward, it was a thing she knew at an instinctive level. One had to have a basic understanding of such things to fly _ikran _in the first place. Still, she was shocked by the intensity of it, and as the shuttle vibrated and rattled, she experienced a momentary fear that the craft would shake itself apart.

Yet the flier, Trudy, obviously possessed a great deal of skill at flying such metal beasts. After several long moments, the intense force waned away, to be replaced by a strange sense of nothingness. Her mate had explained this to her too, but she had not believed him, not entirely. As she disconnected the harness, she floated through the cargo bay, stretching her arms out as if she could fly. Behind her, Ryan laughed and undid his own restraints, ignoring the curious expressions from the other passengers.

"You were right. Up here, we float. It is like swimming in the air." Mo'rel said gleefully, twirling about as if dancing.

As if on some sort of general queue, music blared from the comm speakers, the triumphant theme of 2001: A Space Odyssey filling the entire room. Ryan's angry gazed fixed on Jane Meyers, the comm officer whom Jake had named 'loincloth.' She was laughing loudly, holding her music player near the comm pickup.

"That's _not_ funny, Loincloth." Ryan deliberately used Jake's nickname for her, expressing his displeasure. The lieutenant's eyes searched around the cargo bay for support, but found none. Jake's gaze was every bit as hostile as Ryan's own.

"What is it?" Mo'rel asked, floating nearby.

"She thought she'd play a demeaning little joke on you. Old Sky People reference. Whenever that music plays, uh..." He tried to think of a common frame of reference. "Dumb creatures like prolemuris are supposed to become smart, like The People."

"I see." Mo'rel replied, chuckling slightly. "Then someone should have played it when she first learned to ride a _pa'li_ without falling into the mud."

"Oh." One of the men spoke up, smiling. "She got you there, Jane."

"Whatever." Jane replied, frustrated, undoing her own restraints, obviously uncomfortable for her newer, larger body. Mo'rel frowned slightly as she caught this Janemeyer's gaze lingering for far too long on her mate's body. She felt a pang of jealousy and suppressed it only with great effort. Among the People, it was unheard of to be so brazen with another's mate.

"We're coming up on the _Montana._" Trudy announced. "Estimate hard seal in five minutes."

"Get your gear ready, people. Let's not waste any time dicking around." Ryan ordered, falling back into routine.

Mo'rel wasn't listening anymore, though, floating next to Neytiri as they both stared in wonder as their homeworld came into view. The Sky People called it Pandora, but to her it was simply home, and she had never been so far from it as she was now. The world looked so tiny compared to the near-infinite, star-studded blackness that surrounded them in all directions. Perhaps this was why so many Sky People did not respect Eywa, did not understand her home. They saw only the smallness of it, lording over their conquests from the safety far above.

Yet her mate had come to see differently, so had so many of the Sky People, once they left their home of metal and rock. Once they had _seen_ her world, they had become enamored of it, perhaps even more so than one who had been born to it. Jakesully was certainly the greatest proof of this, he had become a leader among the Omaticaya, led the People to victory over those who had once thought to desecrate and murder. None would deny his loyalty to the People now. She knew her mate to be equally devoted to the world he had come to love, but she questioned some of the others. Eywa had allowed all but one to pass through the Eye, yet that did not mean she would trust them in all things, least of all around Ryan. Human mating customs still predominated among them, and she could not trust their animalistic desires.

_Montana_'s hull was deathly still, only the air processors and heaters running at all, reduced to minimum power. Shadows played across the darkened corridors as Jake pulled himself along the railings. He had never experienced weightlessness in this body, the last time he had been in space he had been thoroughly human. The memory of that was a shock to his system, sometimes he was almost able to forget he had actually _been_ human.

More often in his dreams, even when on Earth, he was in this familiar blue-skinned form. Thomas was there, sometimes, looking like a twin of his own avatar. Even the humans of Earth looked stretched out and blue-hued, it was as if his entire worldview had changed. _It probably did,_ he thought wryly, _no one ever wrote a manual about how becoming Na'vi messes with your head._

"I need an engineering team to head down to the Core." Ryan's voice echoed down the abandoned corridors as he selected a few men to restore full power to the ship.

"Meyers, Ellis, you're with me. The rest of you take your stations." The skipper ordered. Jake hovered nearby, wondering if there was any point in offering to help. His true purpose had been to keep an eye on these people. While he trusted the captain and the first recruits well enough, there were a number of humans in the mix. With one confirmed traitor present, who was to say there weren't more? He didn't know how he planned to catch one, or what he would do when the crew started some kind of regular rotation up here, but he knew he had to be here for this.

"What is it, my Jake?" Neytiri's voice was soothing and he reached for her, dragging them together in the air as he pressed his lips to hers gently. Zero-g certainly had its advantages. Neytiri claimed she came up here to see the place where Sky People came from, but Jake suspected she just wanted to stay with him, pretty much wherever they went. Yet it was difficult, she had to ask another of the clan to watch their daughter and newborn son while up here. It was not something they could do with any real frequency. Sooner or later he'd have to get over the presence of this warship in orbit, but the idea of a vessel armed with nuclear weapons made him understandably nervous.

"Nothing." He answered as he broke the kiss.

"You worry about this _warship_ that it might be used to hurt the People." Neytiri said simply, following the tenor of his thoughts.

"So much evil could be done with it. It's a great responsibility, one that the Sky People have failed to handle many times." Jake explained.

"But you need this power to face the enemy that comes to fight us." She pointed out.

"Yes. We need it, for now." Jake answered, wishing they didn't. He wondered if the day would ever come when he could rest easy, knowing Pandora was safe, knowing that his people, the Omaticaya, had a future. He wanted nothing more than to spare their son and daughter the need to worry as he did.

His head made contact with the hatchway arch and he cursed. Obviously the ship wasn't designed for tall people, much less ten-foot aliens. The fact that none of the magnetic boots fit Na'vi feet had been bad enough. Certainly this was a problem all of the transferred crew would have to face and depending on when the enemy decided to arrive, maybe everyone would have to deal with eventually. Neytiri suppressed an obvious grin as she watched his discomfort, before hitting her own head on a low-hanging pipe.

"Serves you right." Jake exclaimed. He had a feeling his head would swell up like a balloon before he was back on Pandora.


	13. Opening Moves

**Chapter 13 – Opening Moves**

"Restarting central core rotation in three... two... one... mark."

Metallic groans echoed across the _Montana_'s command deck as the central portion of the ship began its slow rotation, light gravity slowly restoring itself. It was as if the ship was protesting the end of its long slumber, awakening only with extreme effort. Systems began clicking on, lights flickering and computers rebooting as power was gradually restored to most of the ship's primary systems. Reports came in from all over the ship, radio messages echoing across the bridge in seemingly random order.

"Fusion reactors powering up... Air circulation systems are green... railgun turrets are responding... Helm is answering..."

"XO, Give me a status on our fuel loadout." Ryan ordered, watching as Ellis glanced over the helm.

"Sir, we're at about 60% of internal reserves. The tow-engine is almost entirely dry, though. It's hovering at about half a percent." Ellis answered crisply.

Ryan frowned, that wasn't entirely unexpected, Montana truly consisted of two almost entirely separate vessels. The massive towing engine was similar in size and class to the large engine modules used in the ISV vessels RDA had relied upon. But instead of towing an array of cargo and crew modules, the engine towed _Montana_ herself. Without the tow-engine, she could never have crossed interstellar distances, her built-in chemical rockets were only good for inter-system missions. Most of the main engine's fuel had been burned in the trip here, leaving only enough internal reserves for orbital maneuvers. Still, the main engine was, essentially, a controlled antimatter/fusion bomb, so it would have to be detached prior to engaging in battle anyway.

"Could we break orbit at 60%?" Ryan asked. He knew it was rather questionable, but it could still provide another tactical option in the inevitable battle. Ellis and the helmsman worked on some quick calculations.

"Possibly, sir. It's real borderline, I wouldn't advise it. We could probably shift into orbit over the gas giant, though." Ellis reported mechanically. Ryan's frown deepened. The lack of fuel would be a limiting factor in any engagement and though it was possible to refuel the main engine with Hell's Gate's refinery complex, the secondary engines used a different fuel, something they couldn't manufacture easily here. No one had anticipated flying a battleship all the way to Pandora, after all. It was a small miracle that someone had even thought to design and build tow-engines for the ships.

"Weapons status?"

"Sir, we have 137 anti-ship nukes, another 23 bombardment MIRVs. The launchers are green across the board. All railguns are responding, we have 1214 rounds registering in the database." Ellis finished.

"What does all that mean?" Jake asked, ducking into bridge. Fortunately this was one of the few areas of the ship with any kind of head room, even so, the man had to hunch over slightly.

"It means we're not at full combat capacity. We expended a lot of our munitions in the battle over Earth, and it wasn't like we could just order more nukes out here." Ryan explained.

"Do you have any idea how many ships could be coming?" Jake asked darkly.

"Not really. All I know is that there were three ships still fitting out in the yards when war broke out. A pair of _Eastwind-_class battlecruisers and another _Montana-_class battleship." Ryan continued. "No idea if they could have been finished in time, or if there aren't others on the way. For that matter, there were a ton of ex-RDA ships laying around the system in various states of disrepair."

"So we'll have to assume the worst and figure that we'll be severely outnumbered." Trudy chimed in. "We could arm the dropships, use them as fighters."

"Yeah, we could do that. But they'd have to stay at the edge of the engagement envelope. One railgun round and we wouldn't even find the pieces." Ryan rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Trudy smiled as if coming to a sudden realization. "We could arm some of the comm satellites, mount a disposable launcher and a single nuke."

"That's a damn good idea, actually." Jake replied. "They'd know about the satellites and might ignore them as a threat."

"We'd need to manufacture mounts for them at the base." Ryan answered.

Mo'rel watched her mate transform into some kind of warrior-leader, barking out orders she couldn't understand with flawless precision. Men and women struggled to comply as the strange Sky People _warship_ came alive with barely restrained menace. The power these machines possessed frightened her, for she had seen the images of their destructive power in Ryan's mind, memories of flame and death on a scale few on her home world could even contemplate. Why anyone would create such vessels of destruction, she couldn't even comprehend. She could almost see her world scoured by the _nuclear_ flame, the People vaporized in the flash, the animals and trees blown about in the fiery winds. The thought of the apocalyptic weapons raining down upon her world brought her nearly to tears.

However for once, her people had allies capable of striking back at the Sky People in their own domain. It was a terrible bargain, and she hoped the enemy would not come, despite everything she had been told. Yet if they did come, these allies of the People would be waiting for them, eager to give battle. She cursed her uselessness in planning this conflict, wishing she could do something to help. Even as the thought echoed in her mind, the glimmerings of an idea showed through brightly.

"These weapons, could they be... shot... from the ground?" She asked hesitantly, unsure of how to phrase the question.

"Heh. Didn't think about that. Yeah, we could probably rig a silo or two at Hell's Gate. The bombardment nukes have enough fuel to hit escape velocity." Ryan answered, smiling at his mate's cleverness. "Having a couple missiles down there could add some tactical flexibility."

"You're not turning Pandora into a fucking nuclear storage facility." Jake interjected. "What will having missiles on the ground help with?" Tension suddenly flared into existence, the bridge taking on an eerie quiet.

"Any place we can strike from gives us options and the potential to blindside an enemy. Lets say they see the fighters and the satellites, but don't count on ground-based weapons. We could use that to even the odds and surprise an enemy warship." Ryan explained. "Besides, it was her idea. I mean obviously if she's okay with it..."

"She doesn't know the kind of damage these things do." Jake interrupted, his cheeks reddening with frustration.

"_Olo'eytkan,_ I know. I have seen, in his mind." Mo'rel answered calmly. "Yet if it could defeat an enemy, stop them from raining death on our home, how could we _not _do it?"

"Fine, two missiles, tops." Jake snapped angrily, obviously extremely unhappy with the situation. "There's a lot of work to be done here. I'm leaving Trudy in the crew rotation with you when Neytiri and I head back to the surface."

"I don't need someone to supervise me." Ryan complained angrily. "Seriously, do you people _still_ not trust me?"

"Calm down. I trust you. It's the ones who haven't transferred I don't trust yet. We already found one traitor among your people." Jake pointed out. "I don't want one getting their fingers on the big red button."

Ryan contemplated this for a moment, for it was certainly true that Trudy was a fine pilot and someone would have to perfect flying dropships like space-fighters. And one more person in the crew rotation wouldn't hurt either. It had already been agreed that crew members would spend ten-day shifts on Montana, then head home, limiting the effects of zero-g muscle atrophy and other undesirable problems associated with spending too much time in space. There were enough men and women for six skeleton-crew rotations.

Despite the annoyance of, essentially, being watched part of the time, the skipper could find no fault in Jake's reasoning. He just didn't like the idea that there _could_ be another traitor out there, someone else who knew what happened to Earth and simply stood by as the planet was scoured of life. How anyone could allow such a genocide to take place, Ryan couldn't understand. Sooner or later the enemy would show themselves, though, he knew that much. He would have to be ready for them.

* * *

_Montana's_ showers were oddly shaped, the low gravity necessitating a hose-like contraption which sprayed water at much higher pressure than normal, forcing the excess rapidly into a light-suction drain. Still, Jake marveled at the idea, for showers on spacecraft was a relatively new luxury. Even RDA's space-freighters hadn't been equipped with anything like this. Neytiri was next to him, marveling at the entire concept of a hot shower, enjoying herself immensely. Jake couldn't help but stare at her beautiful, lithe body, as water droplets traced down her soft blue skin. She smiled at this, rotating her body that he might get a better look, teasing him gently as she cleaned herself.

Despite Jake's lustful thoughts, he remained troubled. Though Ryan's explanation of why positioning some of the missiles on surface made sense _tactically,_ it still conflicted with his desire to protect the Na'vi's innocence, to keep Pandora as unspoiled and pure as possible. If he allowed nuclear silos to show up on the planet, how soon before all of mankind's stupidity affected the planet? Part of him felt like he had failed to keep Pandora free of such destructive influences. Yet beyond all of that, he had to protect the Na'vi themselves from the depredations of this approaching enemy. If the missiles would help with that, what choice did he really have? The dilemma was nauseating.

"You do not want me tonight?" Neytiri pouted, disappointed, her breath hot on his shoulder.

"There's a lot on my mind." Jake explained, turning to face her, gazing into those soft, loving eyes.

"Show me." She demanded, reaching for his queue, giving him little choice but to share his troubled thoughts.

Warmth flooded his awareness as the connection was made, their thoughts binding together, their souls connected at the very deepest level. Jake's thoughts were her thoughts, and she saw everything. Neytiri knew of his deep-seated need to shield the People from the terrible things Sky People had done, but that could not be. It was true that humanity was capable of great evil, but it was also capable of great good, so many remaining here, willing to fight to protect this world.

An image of their queues connected together floated into their combined awareness. They both knew the reason the Na'vi did not think as Sky People did. Humans could not connect to one another like this, could not _see_ truth so plainly. They had to spend their entire lives with only a dim connection to their fellow man, a bond which was much easier to break. Certainly, no one worried about things like security issues with the Na'vi. Some remained true to their fellow men despite it all, but others didn't even see other people _as_ people anymore. In any event, they both knew that innocence could not be protected, not forever. The Na'vi were not alone in the universe, it was a thing they would have to make peace with.

Neytiri pressed her body against his with repressed need, pushing away his troubled thoughts, surprising him with the force of her passion. Her tail sought his own, twirling together as she pushed him backward with intense force, her lips pressing against his forcefully. Jake could feel the pent-up desire within her, the sudden need for them to be together _now._ The couple fell backward onto the floor, Neytiri landing on top, hissing with wild abandon as they made love...

…Ensign Enrico Gomez wasn't exactly thrilled to be back aboard the battleship. It was cramped, dirty and duty aboard a vessel stocked with radioactive weapons had never been high on his list of ways to spend your day to begin with. This definitely wasn't the glamorous bridge duty the recruitment brochures had advertised. Yet he couldn't complain _too_ much. At least he only had to spend ten days on this boat before he could return to the village. Soon, his avatar would be ready, and he could experience Pandora first-hand.

Grease and oil covered his face, hands and uniform. As little more than a grunt, he had inherited the much-loathed duty of cleaning and oiling the timing gears for the missile-tube doors. It was dirty work, and he couldn't wait to shower all of this goop off. He reached for a towel and pushed open the unlocked hatch.

His jaw might as well have dropped to the floor. A pair of Na'vi bodies were intertwined on the shower floor, engaged full on in their business. The woman was hissing and clawing madly at the air in throes of ecstasy, and the man was simply laying their contentedly, hands on her waist as she more or less devoured him. It took a moment, but he recognized Jake Sully's face. At any other time, Enrico might have just shut the hatch, laughed and gone on with his work quota. But this was a sight he'd never seen before, he had no idea the Na'vi could be so _into _things. Suddenly Jake's eyes shifted, making contact with his own as as the woman stopped her gyrations.

"Uh... sorry... hatch was uh... unlocked." Enrico managed to say.

"You didn't lock it?" Jake inquired curiously.

"Lock?" Came Neytiri's confused reply.

Enrico backed out of the shower room, hoping their conversation would distract from his presence. He had been excited to join this Avatar program down on the surface, but now he was downright _desperate_ to get into his avatar. There were a lot more men than women around the base and on board _Montana_, and he hadn't gotten any action for a _long_ time. If all Na'vi were this crazy in bed, he was in for a real treat.

* * *

Fortunately for Mo'rel, someone had remembered to bring some preserved _yerik_ meat for those with Na'vi bodies. Whatever these Sky People called food looked rather like the vile slime-moss that grew on the bottom of some of the lakes and rivers of her world. And _no one_ ate that goop, even if they were starving. From what she could tell, the humans didn't care much for the food either, mixing it around idly and frowning as they swallowed it. They might have been able to command the stars, but they certainly needed help understand what a person was supposed to eat.

Ryan was wandering the ship, checking on parts of it and commanding his people, leaving her with little to do but hang around this _mess hall_. Some of the bonded avatars seemed rather amicable with her, after all she did hold the rank of _Tsahik_ now, but there was a group surrounding this Janemeyers that wanted absolutely nothing to do with her. The woman's hostility bothered her, for Eywa had allowed Jane to bond with an avatar body, and thus must have seen good in the woman. Yet the woman was troublesome and so brazen when it came to staring at Mo'rel's mate.

Mo'rel's gaze met Jane's eyes from across the room, and she could feel the lingering hostility behind them. Though the woman was a few tables away, the tension didn't feel any less real, it was almost as if the woman wanted to reach across the distance separating them and physically attack her. It made no sense whatsoever that this woman, whom Eywa had approved, could be so intensely nasty and disrespectful. There had to be some reason for this, some explanation, and it was only that fact which restrained Mo'rel from more drastic action.

"You got a problem, Moo-moo?" Jane said sarcastically, walking closer, sitting a few seats down and depositing the tray of food rather dramatically. Mo'rel didn't recognize the words she used, but they were obviously intended to be insulting.

"No. It seems that you have a problem." She replied angrily.

"Oh, I don't have any problems, none at all." Jane replied falsely, her tone of voice laced with sarcasm. "But you _know_ that the Captain and I had a thing, right?"

"A thing?" Mo'rel wondered.

"Oh, so he _didn't _tell you. Well I'm shocked!" Jane recoiled in mock surprise. "Just so you know, the Captain and I slept together on the day this ship was commissioned into the Fleet! Yeah! We did it right there in the shipyard. It was scandalous, I tell you."

"He mated with you?" Mo'rel felt her temper rising again, for she did not trust this woman in the slightest.

"Well, if you call _that _mating." There were a few giggles at this, but they were outweighed by the simmering anger brewing among the others in the room. It was Ellis's rumbling voice that ended the conversation, however.

"You stow that shit, Lieutenant. You will not disrespect the Captain in here. Is that clear?" He demanded.

"Yes, sir." Jane answered promptly, her lips curling in a twisted smile.

* * *

**- Within Hell's Gate -**

Max rubbed his temples with mild frustration, this stubborn headache resisted any attempts to medicate it away and he frowned. Creating hundreds of avatar bodies was starting to wear at him, the sheer scale of the thing was beyond ridiculous. Yet with an enemy force on the way which could possibly destroy the entire program, Jake had asked him to _speed up_ the process. While he couldn't fault the logic in that, it was hard enough to turn out the engineered bodies at the existing pace. For that matter, he hadn't found the time to sequence his own genome yet either.

"Is there anything I can do?" Norm offered, the recently-transferred scientist clad in the garb of an Omaticaya hunter.

"Unless you can wave away headaches, not really. What were we thinking? Six-_hundred_ avatars?" Max complained.

"Well it was that, or eventual death, when all this fails." Norm gestured to the building around them. Already, some of the habitation areas had sprung stubborn leaks and some of the air filters had failed. It was only a matter of time before Hell's Gate consumed its limited resources.

"Yeah, I get it." Max answered.

"You could train me on this genome sequencing." Norm offered.

"There's no time. It took years at grad school and a followup with RDA to get this technology down, Norm." Max pointed out.

"Well not everything has to be done by you. I mean, you could teach me how to screen the applicants, maybe even sort through the embryos after you've created them." Norm explained. It would take away from his time among his newly adopted people, but if it helped his friend, it was more than worth it.

"Yeah, I guess I could show you some of that stuff. Jake wants us to switch to a three year growth cycle instead of four, maybe even shoot for two-and-a-half." Max explained. "With RDA's labs, they could do three years pretty easy, but two-point-five was right about at the limit."

"Well this place is starting to fall apart. So I get the urgency. It might not last another twenty years. Neither will some of these people." Norm said simply.

Max just frowned and popped another pain pill, at least there were a decent number of those left. Studying the monitor he brought up the next DNA sample, studying the profile for potential flaws. Every DNA sample had some flaws, but the question was whether or not they were great enough to effect the mental link that was required between human driver and avatar body.

"You see that marker right there?" Max explained, pointing at the screen. Norm nodded briefly as Max continued. "That's a warning sign already. Too many of those, and the driver won't be able to link to the body."

"How many is too many?" Norm inquired.

"It varies. In this case, I think this guy's screwed. Something like ten percent simply can't link to any avatar, it's unfortunate, but true." Max explained.

Hours went by as Norm tried to keep up, but the flow of information was immense. His respect for Max's intelligence went up several notches, and it had been rather high to begin with. Certainly he owed the man for growing this new avatar for him, for allowing him to live out his dream. The very least he could do would be to alleviate some of the burden the man carried.

"If you can do all of that screening for me, I think we could hit a three year cycle, maybe even two-point-five, if we're lucky." Max was smiling, his headache apparently banished. "And maybe I could finally grow one of these things for myself."

* * *

Somehow, he remembered the Captain's quarters as being somewhat larger and less confining. In many ways, Ryan wasn't fully accustomed to this new body just yet, and the cramped quarters aboard the _Montana _only brought that point home more directly. Yet as he lay on his bed, his legs dangling entirely off the edge, he quivered in fury. Mo'rel's words interrupted his quiet contemplation, his rage boiling to the surface almost instantaneously. How any of his crew could be so blatantly disrespectful and downright insulting to his mate was incomprehensible. Lt. Jane Meyers would be getting an earful in the morning, that much was certain.

"She said _what?"_ Ryan stated angrily. "God, what a twat."

"So you mated with her?" Mo'rel blinked, gazing at her mate.

"Not mated. Had sex. For humans it's different. Years before I ever came to Pandora, Jane and I had sex, once. God, it wasn't even that good and she never came back for more." Ryan explained, confused. "I don't know why it would suddenly bother her now."

"It does bother her. I think she wanted to fight me." Mo'rel answered.

"Well to hell with her." Ryan stated emphatically. "It's you I'm worried about. I mean, like I said before, I've been with other women before I met you. I know that's kind of weird for you."

"I understand. You are not with them now, since becoming one of the People." Mo'rel answered, but it was obvious to him that it did bother her at some level, it was just the price of their relationship, and so she had accepted it as gracefully as possible.

"That was why you pursued me, not as a mate." Mo'rel finished.

"Yeah, but it became much more than that." Ryan protested. "You know that, right?"

"I know. I _see._" She said simply, gently pressing her lips to his, ending the conversation rather pointedly. Ryan tried to banish the distracting thoughts, yet a part of his mind continued to contemplate the problem. For the Na'vi, such things as casual sex were beyond taboo, they simply _didn't _happen. He knew a part of his mate would always be confused by the knowledge that her man had been with another. He made a mental note to talk to Jake about it, the Omaticaya leader would probably be the only other person in the universe who would understand the problem.

Mo'rel's passionate fury took him by surprise, finally breaking his train of thought, bringing a smile to his face as they bonded. Worries about the incoming fleet, the strange behavior of Lt. Meyers and all manner of problems were temporarily discarded as he lost himself in her embrace. His entire life he had always wondered what it would be like to settle down with one woman, but he had never seriously considered the possibility until circumstance and ignorance had combined to force it upon him. Yet he had never been happier, more complete, than he was now, with her.


	14. Over The Horizon

**Chapter 14 – Over the Horizon**

Reality weighed heavily upon Jake, and for the first time since ceasing to dream walk, he wondered if he might just wake up and have it all become some terrible dream. War loomed over the horizon, the sinister shadow of some unknown enemy threatening to destroy the peace of this world, already purchased at such a great price in blood. People aboard _Montana_ talked about it as if it were some sort of everyday occurrence, that shooting off nukes in orbit was anything but the desperate acts of a species living on the edge of extinction.

Perhaps it was all good and well to speak of tossing around nuclear weapons and mass-driven railguns in some kind of theoretical discussion, but these weapons were very real. The death they would cause was anything but hypothetical. Beyond it all, Earth was gone, a smoldering ruin circling a lonely star, no longer home to the advanced civilization that was. Was it the technology, the science that was to blame, or was mankind simply unable to hold such power in its hands without destroying themselves with it? It was an argument as old as humanity itself, whether to blame the weapon or the wielder for the death that resulted.

Jake had no desire to rehash such subjects in his mind, and so the anger and frustration brewed like a pressure cooker, threatening his sanity. The Na'vi had sacrificed so much simply to live free of the destructive influence man had brought to this world. All too soon, he knew, they would have to do it again.

Neytiri lay curled up next to him on the floor, for the rack-beds here were far too small for any Na'vi. The slow rhythm of her breathing was a comfort to him, a thing he couldn't live without anymore. Jake missed his home in the forest, he missed the soft sounds of it, the natural beauty of the place. Beyond even that, he missed their children, the son he barely knew yet and the daughter whom _everyone _knew, due to that precocious streak she had probably inherited from her mother. He was supposed to be enjoying that life, hard as it was, rather than planning another kind of pointless slaughter. Jake was done with war, but unfortunately, war was not done with him.

"My Jake..." Neytiri whispered, her eyes opening lazily.

"Shhh. Sleep." Jake replied, touching her cheek and pulling her close. She symbolized everything that was good in the People. Neytiri was strong-willed and of sharp mind. She wasted no time, enjoying every moment of life she could.

"Do not be troubled," Neytiri said quietly. "We will prevail. _Toruk Makto_ leads us again." Jake wanted to smile at this, to share that unbreakable faith that things would turn out fine, but try as he might, he could not.

As her eyes closed again, she nuzzled close to him, her tail wrapping around him possessively, as if to keep from ever leaving her side. Exhausted, Jake drifted off to sleep despite his conflicted thoughts, banishing his mind into the realm of dreams.

_Fire blazed everywhere as the tidal wave of fiery rock erupted from the impact point, spreading rapidly across the surface of the Earth, scouring the last of the green fields and forest refuges in molten rage. Skyscrapers toppled into the boiling lava, billowing clouds of smoke erupted from the dying cities of man, terrified screams drowned out suddenly by the fearsome winds. Ash fell everywhere from the heavens, drifting about the swirling currents of wind, coating everything around him. Jake stood alone in the center of the wreckage, of skeletons and metal twisted together in a grotesque mockery of life. _

"_Nice place you got here, Corporal. Thought about retiring here after my tour." The voice was familiar, and it brought a chill down his spine. Colonel Quaritch stood before him, big as life in his fatigues, holding a cup of coffee as if this all was just some sort of minor early-morning difficulty._

"_You're dead." Jake stated._

"_Always said Hell was a better place then Pandora." Quartich continued, sipping from the mug, ignoring. The soldier's eyes took in the blighted reality of their shared birth-world, the remnants of a civilization that had turned on itself in a fit of apocalyptic fury._

"_Neytiri killed you. I saw it."_

"_Yeah. She killed me. Got soft, I guess. You're not supposed to get soft, or this is what happens to you." Quaritch gestured to the smoldering ruins everywhere around them. Storm clouds gathered above, carrying plumes of dust and smoke, obscuring the sunlight completely, denying Earth that life-giving energy._

"_What the hell are you doing here?_

"_Maybe I'm just a monkey in some gyrene's nightmare. Or maybe I'm a warning from Eywa. When she says jump, I have to jump. 'Cause one thing I can tell you is, what's headed your way isn't pretty. And you won't be pretty when they get done with you." Blood dripped from the arrow wounds in Quaritch's chest, leaking in great crimson rivulets that stained his combat fatigues and dripped out onto the soiled ground beneath._

"_Make sense, man."_

"_Sense. As if you ever had any, Sully. How about enough firepower to sterilize Pandora every bit as dead as this joint? You're not taking the threat seriously, tying your hands behind your back instead of preparing for the fight. Get the job done, marine, or just die with your precious planet. Personally, I don't give a shit. I could use some company out here.." Quaritch reached for his coffee mug again, frowning as he found it empty. _

"_Guess that means I'm out. See you soon, Sully." The man's laughter echoed across the burning cityscape as the body rapidly decomposed before Jake's eyes, turning to blackened ash and blowing outward along the shifting currents of howling wind. Only the mug remained behind, an empty cup clutched by a bony hand, ready to be filled. He picked it up, regarding it curiously._

_

* * *

_

Parker's life had been one unmitigated disaster after another, one screw-up followed by something far worse. It was like a an avalanche that only grew larger and more chaotic with each passing moment. He felt the universe weighing upon him, the fate of his entire species resting on his flawed, weak shoulders. It was not a thing which gave him any kind of comfort. Yet how he could do any _worse_ of a job than the Admiral, he could not fathom.

He couldn't blame her for her addiction to power, for he had succumbed to that alluring temptation too. Ultimately he was unable to wield such authority, it was a realization that had come to him only gradually, understanding that his real flaw was thinking that his decisions, simply by virtue of them being _his,_ were somehow right. It was an understanding the Admiral had not yet reached. Parker recognized his own flaws in the mirror of her face, in her actions.

A knock on the hatchway door interrupted his thoughts and he frowned. Admiral Matheson never knocked, she just barged in as if she owned the place, and certainly no one else aboard wanted anything to do with him. He was anathema, a failure, along for the ride only as a tool. Parker opened the hatch warily, wondering what new threat would present itself.

"Mr. Selfridge." He recognized the weathered features as Lt. Colonel Nathaniel Archer, the only other man aboard to wield any kind of real authority independent of the Admiral. Archer's cropped buzz-cut and graying hair reminded Parker of another soldier, one that had wrecked his life beyond any kind of repair. Yet the man before him bore little resemblance to Quaritch otherwise, extending a hand in an almost friendly gesture, lips twisted in the barest hint of a smile.

"Colonel." Parker began hesitantly, gripping the offered hand firmly.

"I'd like a few minutes of your time." Archer stated simply. It wasn't a question, but it wasn't quite a demand either. Deciding he preferred this sort of treatment to the Admiral's icy demeanor, he opened the hatch completely, waving the soldier in.

"So... what can I do for you?" Parker began, sitting at his desk, little more than a tiny alcove with a computer screen. It hardly compared to the powerful, glass-surfaced monstrosity he once possessed, lording over Hell's Gate.

"I've got a few questions," Archer began, waving distractedly as Parker's face twitched for a moment. The soldier helped himself to the computer, swiveling the screen to face him. "No.. we're not taking you for a 'space walk' or anything. The Admiral has her methods, I have mine. I much prefer the carrot to the stick."

"Comforting." Parker said dryly, unconvinced.

"What I need is intel. We know Hell's Gate, her defenses, her manufacturing capabilities. What we need to do is take it intact from the enemy, either through negotiation or... more direct options." Archer began, bringing up a map of the complex on Parker's computer monitor.

"What can I do? I'm no soldier." Parker stated honestly, shifting around in his chair uncomfortably.

"Yeah, but you know the _people._" Archer countered. "You know how they think. Look, the Admiral says she wants to negotiate. Fine, we'll negotiate, but I think we both know that's not going to hold up. It's going to go south in a hurry, and we'll need to move fast to secure the base for ourselves. We want it intact, so we have a base with which to start the colony." Archer explained.

"I get it, really I do. All I can tell you is that Sully lost his mind and went native. Most of the scientists went with him." Parker said.

"I know the history and the official account," Archer frowned. "Look. I need to know what the man is like, I need to know the details that aren't in the official report. We need to anticipate his moves, and once we get there, we don't have time to sit around collecting intelligence while Sully reinforces the base with piles of native warriors. We need to go in hot, quick and eliminate resistance in a hurry, take over and fortify. We'll have control of the orbitals, of course, but that doesn't mean we don't need boots on the ground."

Archer paused for a moment, staring at the readouts and plans for Hell's Gate. "You help me, and I'll see to it the Admiral doesn't space you out of boredom, she'll listen to me. So I'm going to ask one more time, Mister Selfridge, and I expect an answer. Tell me the story of RDA's fall, the _real_ story." It was a threat, but sugar-coated in at least little respect. Such was better than Parker could expect from the Admiral.

He nodded, taking a deep breath, unsure exactly of where to start. It _was_ a long story, after all.

* * *

Though the ride back to her home was far more turbulent than the flight into the void and the Sky People vessel, Mo'rel felt a sense of relief despite it all. Her mate might have been perfectly at home among the stars, but she had no illusions about where she truly belonged. Human machines possessed seemingly limitless powers but she began to doubt if _anyone_, even her lifemate, should possess such power. Through _tsa'heylu_ she had felt it as a high, a haunting feeling of absolute authority achieved at the point of a gun. Perhaps Ryan was less affected than most humans, yet it was still there in the back of his mind, and she felt it coursing through his thoughts. _Montana _was the fulfillment of an addiction, every bit as strong among the Sky People as _Toruk_ was among the Na'vi.

Forces pushed her back against the harness as the _dropship_ broke into the atmosphere at high speed, leveling out rapidly over the familiar forests of her home. Being so far from Eywa had felt like being naked and alone at the same time. So the restoration of that connection, the love of Eywa, the companionship of her world, brought her immense joy. It was the fulfillment of her own addiction, her own need. She turned to face Ryan, sitting lazily next to her, as if he had done this a great many times. Her eyes met his and she was shocked to find the same sort of connection in him. He was overjoyed to be returning home, and that surprised her. For a part of her always felt as if she would have to compete with the very stars for his heart. It would seem that somewhere along the way, he had found Eywa too, in his own way.

"What are you so happy about?" Janemeyers asked, chafing against the straps.

"We return home." Mo'rel answered, her voice carefully neutral.

"Stow it, Lieutenant." Ryan warned darkly. Why this woman had such a problem with her, Mo'rel couldn't understand. Jane was acting as if caught in the mating fever, that intense, irresistible attraction just before bonding with a lifemate.

"We're on final approach Hell's Gate. We'll be down in five, people." Trudy's voice echoed through the cargo bay. Mo'rel spent that time with her neck turned towards the window, watching as the trees rushed by, feeling excitement well up within her. She would hunt today, to enjoy a true meal, not preserved _yerik_ meat prepared in human fashion.

"Thank you for flying Air Pandora." Trudy chimed in as the craft settled onto the ground, the ramp descending moments later. Mo'rel fumbled with the straps for a moment before remembering the workings of the strange human buckles. Others were reaching for stowed packs and gear, but she possessed none. Why Sky People needed so much _stuff_ she couldn't comprehend. Feeling the fresh air of her home world rush in, she smiled, stepping out into the warm sunlight.

A booted foot met her own and she tumbled down the ramp, her head slamming against the artificial stone. She cried out as she felt the pain course through her, wiping the blood from her forehead as she stood. Mo'rel searched for the source of the offending foot, her eyes leveling to meet Jane's.

"Better watch where you're going, Moo-moo." Jane laughed.

Mo'rel didn't even stop to think, running full tilt into the offending woman, her fist impacting against Jane's gut, lifting her up with a loud 'oomph' of escaping air. The woman fell backwards onto the ramp with a loud thud, but Mo'rel didn't stop there, reaching for her knife, prepared to end this foolish woman's life for such an attack.

"**Stop!**" Neytiri's voice commanded, just as Mo'rel's blade met Jane's neck. The offending woman was mortified with terror, shaking violently at the unexpected fury of the assault.

"She challenged me." Mo'rel protested, the knife still pressed against Jane's throat.

"She is not of her right mind." Neytiri answered. "Or do you think Eywa would allow such a fool to pass through the Eye?"

Mo'rel hesitated a moment at this, for she too had been wondering why Eywa would allow such a hostile Sky Person to just pass through without a second thought. Perhaps there was more to the transfer of souls than anyone had thought. Yet she could not deny the challenge, the brazen and stupid behavior of this woman. She withdrew the knife slowly, cautiously, her eyes blazing with anger.

"You touch me again and I will send you to Eywa myself." Mo'rel warned, wiping blood from her forehead and flinging it onto Jane's outstretched body. Ryan was running down the steps, ignoring Jane's prone form, concern for his mate written all over his face.

"You all right?" He reached for the first aid kit near the door, fishing around for some cotton pads. Ryan pressed the pads against her forehead, dabbing up the blood gently. "What the hell happened?"

"This woman behaves as if fighting to choose a mate. You once mated with her?" Neytiri regarded Ryan curiously, as if challenging him to deny it.

"Uh... in human fashion, yes. It was a long time ago, humans don't bond permanently." Ryan protested, his arms cast around his lifemate protectively.

"It doesn't matter. When she became one with this body, she started acting like this?" Neytiri questioned further. Jake was at her side, eyebrow arched in curiosity yet remaining silent, allowing _tsahik_ to do her duty.

Jane sat up slowly, catching her breath in great heaving gasps, her eyes darting around fearfully. "I... I don't understand." She began, carefully avoiding Mo'rel's fuming gaze.

"To pass through the Eye is to become one of the People in all things." Neytiri explained. "You mated with this man once. Your body knows this."

"I get it. Na'vi mate permanently, so her body is acting as if she were mated already because of her memory, or something." Ryan's voice betrayed his nervousness at this turn of events, he had a lifemate and obviously possessed no desire to constantly ward off another woman.

"Yes. There must be some _feeling_ too." Neytiri continued. "Even if she didn't know it."

"So what do we do?" Ryan asked.

"She must find a true mate to replace the false bond. Until then she must remain far from both of you." Neytiri finished, turning towards Jane. "And _you_ must learn to control yourself and your mating urges. You are not of the Sky People anymore. You will _learn, _or you will die_._" She said simply, walking away before the stunned woman could even mount up the courage to reply.

"Got to hand it to you Jake," Ryan began. "Your mate certainly has a way with words."

"Yeah, that she does," answered Jake. "But you. Seriously, do any of your crew know how to keep it in their pants?"

"It can get awful lonely, stuck in a tin can for months at a time." The captain explained. "It's just happens. Probably half the crew has done the deed at one point or another while on board."

"See to it that it doesn't 'just happen' anymore." Jake warned darkly. "We've got enough trouble as it is."

* * *

Air flew through her hair as she soared through the clouds, letting loose a scream of delight. Trudy had never known anything as perfect, anything as pure as flying like this. She felt the wings of her _ikran _as if they were her own, she felt the wind, the moisture hovering in the clouds. When she first came to this world, seeing the natives riding around on their banshees for the first time, she had wondered then what it must be like. How little she had understood then. After flying the dropship, the only thing she had wanted to do was this, the only place she wanted to be was out there in the forests of Pandora.

Norm struggled to keep up behind her, but even that didn't matter, not now. Life was as it should be. All she wanted was for the constant threats the universe manufactured for this world to simply end. Then she could enjoy life with her mate, she could hunt from the skies and feel as if she were truly alive. Life may not have been easy out here in the bush, but it was so much less complicated. And if anything satisfied Trudy, it was a lack of complications.

It was a thing that sometimes put strain on her relationship with Norm, for if there was any constant in the life of a scientist, it was in making things unnecessarily complex. Yet Norm shared her dreams, and she his, and in truth reality was probably caught somewhere between them. Perhaps some of her mate's thinking had rubbed off on her, the Omaticaya seemed to think this was the way things worked with _tsa'heylu._

"Hey, we gotta eat.. can't be up here all day." Norm screamed above the wind, sliding his truly massive _ikran_ next to hers. That had been an interesting event, showing off the scientist's conquest to the rest of the tribe. They had been suitably impressed, for only a select few warriors ever bonded with such large banshees.

"All right, Norm. Let's see what you've got." Trudy challenged, twisting into a dive, descending towards the lake below. She leveled out just above the waves, casting a spray of water everywhere as she smiled, choosing her target form among the tetrapterons already flying rapidly away from the disturbance. Trudy chose her target carefully, drawing back the bowstring and letting loose, dropping one of the birds with the first arrow.

It splashed into the water, the body floating gently along the waves near the shoreline. She was about to land to wade in and retrieve it when Norm's _ikran _appeared, reaching out a clawed appendage to clutch the kill. The massive banshee was somehow still able to maintain momentum even with such a large kill. Trudy smiled, at peace with her life here, as she spoke the words all of the tribe remembered so well. For even a creature such as this deserved to rest peacefully, with Eywa, just as she would someday.

"Guess I'm useful after all?" Norm yelled over the wind, smiling at her as they ascended into the cloudy sky once more.

The journey back to her adopted home was uneventful, giving her mind a much needed break from the complexities her life had developed. There was a sort of tranquility on Pandora now, even among the untamed wilds, a peace she had never known in her human body. Perhaps it was how all Na'vi felt about their home world, or maybe this was something unique to her alone. All of her life she felt like she had been running from something, culminating in her self-imposed exile on the furthest flung outpost of humanity, and now from humanity itself.

Yet as she soared through the clouds, she wondered if she had been mistaken. Maybe all this time she had been running _to_ something. Her _ikran_ dove ever-faster towards Hometree, gaining reckless speed, leveling out at the last moment, buzzing the tree so close that the wind of her passing disturbed the leaves. Wide-eyed Omaticaya looked on from below as she twisted and turned in a manner no Na'vi had even contemplated before. When she landed near the _ikran _roost it was to cheers and admiring glances.


	15. Incoming

Excuse the long delay in writing this chapter... I've been rather busy of late, but haven't dropped the story. This chapter is a bit shorter than some of the other ones, but I wanted to push it out anyway so you all had something to read :). More are on the way.

**Chapter 15: Incoming**

**3 Years Later**

Pandora was as she had always been to mankind, an unfathomable mystery, a locked box of secrets impossibly faraway from the smoldering cinders of Terra. Her forests glimmered in the darkness, leaves alight with glowing radiance, a multitude of colors, of scents and sounds. She was a planet, alive with the sensations of a living world, conscious of itself.

A soft breeze fluttered through the shimmering leaves, echoing into the vibrant jungles. For Jake, this was home, this was natural, it was life as it should be. If someone had told him before he left for Pandora that he would find purpose in the sweating jungles of an alien world, he would have burst out with laughter. Yet that was exactly what had happened. Spending time at Hell's Gate had made him appreciate the forest anew, rekindling his love for this world.

His ears twitched, picking up the familiar sounds of animals scurrying about the jungle. Familiar scents graced his nostrils as they flared slightly, gathering in the clean, pure air of this place. Yet despite everything he desired about this world, there was one thing that stood out above all. Calloused feet gripped the dirt slightly as he smiled, letting loose with a furious run, dodging tree branches as he flew through the trails with practiced ease. For a moment all concerns about the impending war were lost to him, the great burden lifting from his shoulders as he glided through the forest.

It was Neytiri who finally put a stop to it, dropping from the forest canopy almost silently, facing him with that inquisitive look he so loved. His feet ground in the dirt as he slowed to meet her, skidding to a stop, still enjoying that sensation of motion every day. His days as a cripple had taught him to appreciate every moment of life, even the small things.

"We must hunt today. Bring back meat for the clan." She chastised. Yet she couldn't resist a smile as she continued. "Sometimes, you are still like a baby."

"Yeah, a real _sxkwang_, right?" Jake teased. "So.. what's it to be, _yerik?_" It was always yerik, though. Sure, there were many other beasts out there, but none so numerous or possessing so much meat. And there were only so many ways you could season the same thing, day after day. If there was anything Jake missed from his life on Earth it was just that, the food. Memories of tastes he could no longer experience lingered in the back of his mind. At this point, he might actually prefer Marine chow over yerik meat. And Marines were certainly not renowned for their gourmet cooking abilities.

Before his mate could compose a reply, his radio beeped pointedly. Only one word emanated from the device, and it shattered the dream that was this world, wiping away any concerns over food, running or even the attentions of his mate. All the blood drained from his face.

"...Incoming."

* * *

Somehow, Enrico Gomez always managed to draw the least desirable duty possible. There wasn't exactly much opportunity for promotion on a single ship stranded at the ass-end of the universe. Here he was, stuck with watch duty on the tactical station. Watching sensor feeds and radar returns in the vast emptiness of space ranked rather high among ways to die of eternal boredom. Yet it wasn't a total loss, Jane Meyers was present, and if her mannerisms were at all indicative of her mood, he just might be able to worm his way in there.

Certainly, Jane's attraction to the Captain had been a problem, but it was just another hurdle to jump over. He'd already merged with his new Avatar body and there really wasn't anything preventing him from putting on his game face and making a move. Deciding the tactical console had little entertainment to offer him, he turned towards her, smiling broadly.

"So, we got the bridge to ourselves tonight." He offered.

"Seems that way." Jane replied rather coldly.

"Bored?" Enrico inquired, his eyes narrowing slightly. Jane's exasperated look told him she got the hint.

"What is it with you guys? Just because you got bigger equipment now doesn't mean I give a fuck." Jane replied angrily.

"I wasn't asking you to give a fuck. I'm saying, let's fuck. Unless you got something better to do." Enrico pointed to the communications panel which looked even less interesting than his own.

"You remember the lesson that smartass Norm was giving everyone? You can't have sex without issues here." She answered, but something in her eyes spoke of the temptation that was lingering in her mind. Enrico had been steadily working on her these last few months since becoming permanently bonded to this body. While Jane was right, he did have better equipment now, that wasn't all of it. Certainly, sex had a lot more complications on this ball of dirt than on Earth, but at some level it didn't matter. Norm had told him that if a bond succeeded, it was a done deal. That was good enough for him.

"Yeah, I remember. Plug in your stuff, if it works, you're in it for life. If it's going to go bad, then the bond will fail. Actually baby that sounds a lot better than dinner and movie." Enrico offered, ducking underneath a support girder as he walked towards her. Her gaze didn't waver, but there was some kind of excitement there. This had happened among several of the crew after bonding and somehow the relationships all worked out well in the end. There was something to be said about Na'vi physiology, after all. It certainly made mating much more simplistic even if far more permanent.

His eyes lingered on her breasts, somewhat larger than Na'vi norm, his hand brushing over it gently, sliding over the fabric of her uniform. Jane's gaze never wavered as he leaned forward, his lips parted slightly. The kiss rapidly became more primal, for neither had satisfied their biological need for quite some time. Enrico felt himself falling into her, furiously undoing her top, pushing her against the hatchway.

"Unknown Contact." The computer blared across the nearly-empty bridge. Enrico cursed wildly, the steady stream of invective surprising even him. What a perfect time for some piece of space junk to come floating into sensor range, he thought angrily.

Returning to the tactical console, the smile on his face rapidly vanished, fear traveling down his spine like electric current. The computer had already done the legwork and his eyes lingered on the flashing dots on the screen. A formation of vessels approached Pandora along the approach vector from Earth. A _Montana-_class battleship led the deadly armada of warships and ISVs streaming towards them with deadly inevitabilty.

"What is it?" Jane asked curiously.

"They're here, ma'am." He replied, military training kicking in immediately. She was his superior officer, and regardless of anything else which may have happened, this was no time for games. "I read one _Montana-_class battleship, two _Eastwind-_class battlecruisers and three _Capital Star-_class ISVs, inbound, in loose formation."

For a moment, Jane simply stared at him, her mouth agape in shock. Everyone had suspected this day would come, yet all had hoped it wouldn't. The reality of it weighed heavily upon her and for a moment she couldn't say or do anything other than stand in mute horror. Not only had the enemy arrived, they had arrived in impossible force. Duty nagged at her, breaking the spell of silence which had taken hold of her. Her fingers danced over the comm panel, and a single word echoed across the world below _Montana._

"...Incoming."

* * *

Dr. Grace Augustine, Phd. no longer felt time in the literal sense, she no longer felt anything, and yet she felt the entire living pulse of Pandora. Existence was a dream from which she knew she would never awaken, a vision of everything she choose to see. For a moment she soared in the clouds, one with the mighty toruk, then she was a leaf, blowing softly in the afternoon breeze. There were voices of Na'vi long passed, so ancient the language was incomprehensible to her. Yet the meaning was plain, the tenor of sing-song tones changing from one of shock to one of alarm and finally to one of stark horror.

She was whole again, standing in the darkness of Eywa's own mind, that world-spanning consciousness which felt all. Her lab coat billowed around her, familiar smoke carrying along the breeze from the cancer-stick stuck between her fingers. Pandora materialized around her, a representation of what lay beyond drawn out before her. She was in the forests now, sifting through the trails, passing by the great trees stretching as far as the eye could see. And beyond, were the unnatural walls of Hell's Gate itself, the mighty fortress of mankind, so far from home.

Wistful memories coalesced around her conscious mind, pieces of her awareness coming back to her gradually. She was a wide-eyed student, gaping in wonder at the footage sent back from the RDA company probes. A smile came to her at the thought of the pleasant memory, an almost unnatural thing after so long wallowing in bitterness. How had that happened? Where did that curious little girl go wrong? More memories came to her, the floodgates opening in her mind, threatening to wash away that pure innocence. RDA had come, and she with them, not to study, not to learn, but to take and destroy. Scenes of destruction played out again and again, beautiful forests leveled, the ground cut clean open, scarring the land and finally so many innocent Na'vi slaughtered over nothing but rock.

And they had returned, those who had destroyed their own home, without any moral compass other than what happened to suit them at the moment. Eywa had awakened her mind for a purpose, that great mind would need her help, her unique insight, in the battle to come. That such a thing loomed on the horizon was no longer in doubt, Eywa felt their presence, the immense destructive power floating over Pandora. By extension, Grace felt it too, and it became clear to her what had to be done, for no matter the wisdom of that powerful mind, there was nothing Eywa could do to defend herself and her world.

Grace knew she didn't exist in any literal sense, but it felt like she did. Did that make her a ghost, a figment of the imagination of a world? She felt the answer as soon as the question burned through her mind. Her non-existent body simply passed through everything, the massive steel barriers of Hell's Gate, the concrete of the habitation module, into the familiar surroundings of her old laboratory. A wave of maudlin passed over her, a longing for the comforting presence of her studies, her burning desire to learn and experiment. Yet those days were long past her now, in truth there was no further need to study Pandora, she was Pandora. Max was there, in his new body, hard at work growing Avatars for the survivors of Earth. Behind him, Norm worked diligently to assist, trying not to bump his head in the now low-hanging ceiling above him. It was now or never.

"Hello Kitties." The statement was only two words, but it couldn't have startled them more, projected as it was directly into their conscious minds. It was a power Eywa used very infrequently, for the need was certainly rare enough, but now was not the time to wait for someone to get around to talking to her. She had to reach out to the humans who had taken up residence here. Amusement coursed through her as Norm bumped his head against the ceiling, cursing loudly in shock. For his part, Max was rather less surprised, blinking once to ensure he wasn't hallucinating.

"What in the name of Eywa?" Norm managed to choke out.

"Funny, Norm, that you should mention her..." Grace smiled, which was almost as shocking as her sudden appearance.

* * *

Silence pervaded the bridge of the battleship _Kongo,_ smothering Parker Selfridge with its omnipresent weight. Only the soft sensor sweeps and muted whispers emanating from the various comm stations interrupted the deadly quiet, reminding him that he was, indeed, on a very different type of vessel than the ISV he had departed on all those years ago. Crew shuffled around him, ignoring the presence of the civilian interloper like some kind of disease. Deep down, everyone blamed him for the state of affairs that had led to the apocalyptic war over Earth, and it registered in those hostile gazes, those whispers directed at him when they thought he couldn't hear.

"Entering Orbit, ma'am." The helmsman reported with absolute precision. For her part, Admiral Matheson didn't even flinch. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her command chair, knuckles white with tension and perhaps a twinge of fear. Parker knew better than most that the fight ahead would be neither easy nor lack for a price in blood, and he had enough blood on his hands for many lifetimes. Another war loomed ahead for Pandora, the second for no better reason than the first.

"Give me a visual." Matheson ordered crisply, betraying none of that anxiety Parker suspected lurked just underneath the surface. He knew Matheson lack for sanity, but apparently few others were truly aware of that fact. Either that, or they simply ignored it out of the fear that she might start spacing people again. A breath he didn't realize he had been holding came out as a long, forlorn sigh, as the familiar orb of Pandora appeared, looming ahead, orbiting the great gas giant. It was a sight he never thought he'd see again, except in his darkest nightmares. The image burned into his retinas, convincing him of its reality.

Gravity began to fade away as the mighty warship ended her deceleration maneuvers, slipping into high orbit with silent ease. Fortunately, Parker remembered to wear his mag-boots, a harsh lesson picked up from his self-imposed exile mining asteroids. If he failed this time, there would be worse consequences than a grimy job at the ass end of the universe.

"Last time you saw this place, your tail was tucked firmly between your legs." Matheson observed wryly, that dangerous, twisted smile wrinkling her skin, giving her an appearance of someone far older than she truly was. What drove the demented Admiral, Parker couldn't say, but at some level he just didn't care anymore. He kept living more out of habit than any real desire to continue on to witness this coming disaster.

"Something like that." Parker had nothing else to say, he hadn't wanted to come back. Pandora was a most unwelcome sight indeed, full of guilt and haunting memories of failure, something he still had difficulty truly accepting. Jake had thoroughly beaten him, kicked him out from his position of power. The shock still reverberated in the back of his mind, like being jarred awake from a pleasant dream by a bucket full of icy water.

"It's time to make that phone call..." Matheson pointed out unnecessarily. Parker prayed to whatever God might actually exist in this fucked up universe that it wouldn't be Jake on the end of that comm line. He wasn't sure he could survive looking on Jake's face again, like that fateful day so long ago, watching him as he trudged into the shuttle, knowing that hell awaited him back on Earth. Only that hell had proven to be far worse than anything he could have imagined.

* * *

The Sky Clan village had taken shape over the last couple of years, gradually becoming a functioning unit, a sort of bridge between the simplistic, but effective ways of the Na'vi and the advanced knowledge humanity had garnered over the centuries. Captain Ryan Larson was pleased with the progress, though at some level, this would never quite be home for him the way it was for Jake and the others. A part of him remained firmly attached the vessel in orbit, to the mysteries of space. Like this village, he felt like a bridge between the old and the new, the high tech and the simple.

Carefully adjusting the water wheel that kept the village generator spinning, he cursed as the power flickered for a moment and died. Trudy was behind him, reworking the small transformer, which was probably a lot more dangerous than fixing the broken paddle on a wooden wheel.

"Almost there... you can push that bitch back into place." Trudy stated matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, well don't fry the radio. We need that." Ryan answered distractedly, pushing the wooden wheel back into it's spinning axle, letting the water flow over the top again. Mercifully, the LEDs on the panel lit up again, letting power trickle into the radio shack.

"So it's back to the 19th century for us, eh?" Ryan pointed out unnecessarily. For her part, Trudy did not seem amused. _Well that figures, _Ryan thought, _she's all about the Omaticaya, me, I'd rather have some hot water and a light switch once in awhile. _It might be awhile before someone figured out how to have a hot shower around here, but at least they had some basic lighting and a radio that wasn't dependent on parts from Hell's Gate.

"...incoming warships, entering high orbit, trailing ISVs breaking off for Persephone..." The radio blared as power was restored. Chatter echoed everywhere as a crescendo of overlapping voices tried to make sense of the situation. Horror filled the pit of Ryan's stomach, a lurking pain, an anxiety that was forced down only with extreme effort. Soon, the village was forgotten, the job at hand a distant memory as he reached for the microphone, as if in a dream.

"Say again, Hell's Gate."

"Repeat, Assault force in high orbit, closing fast on Montana's position. Transport ISVs have broken off and are making for Persephone. No communication from the inbound fleet. Assumed hostile." Ryan had no idea who was in charge over there, but the situation was obviously degrading fast. Behind him, Trudy had gone as pale as any Na'vi body could, standing motionless, dropping the soldering iron.

"Get a shuttle out here now to pick us up, patch me through to Montana immediately. And someone find Jake. Keep it together over there."

"Yes, sir." Came the more coherent reply. Trudy looked on with gradually growing anger, laced with a dangerous sort of determination. Ryan knew it too, a fear that everything he had worked and built for so long would simply vanish, as Earth had. There could be no failure, this time. The fates of two peoples depended on it, intertwined together. Yet it was Trudy who truly captured the situation with her abrasive wit.

"Fucking bullshit!" She exclaimed angrily.


End file.
